A Qwack in Time
by Amalockh
Summary: Duck Dodgers is about to learn he wasn't the only one unfrozen into a new world. Set in the "Duck Dodgers" universe, post-series ending. Don't worry, STILL not entirely on Hiatus!... Probably. Maybe.
1. Awakening

**March 29th, CENTURY: 24 1/2 **

DEEP, inside a secret laboratory, HIGH on top of the Earth...

A mechanical voice was heard.

_"Unlocking hatch - Cryostasis Program Terminated" _

The hatch slowly undid itself and two latches folded back. And then two voices could be heard.

"... _Well, now he's unfrozen." _

_"This is a bad idea. Pure and simple." _

_"I've waited TOO darn long for this, Simmons! And get ME a JUICEBOX! I'm bored!" _

_"Of course..." _

He didn't see where the voices came from by the time his eyes finally opened. All he could see was... a lot of steam. And Cold. In fact, his entire body felt like it was shivering. If he actually had a voice he'd probably end up screaming, but he didn't HAVE one.

His first thought was, _Huh. I feel like I've been asleep. For a long time. Also... I REALLY need to pee._

If worse came to worse he could pee on the pristine floor: it didn't look like there was anybody around. Plus, it was REALLY dark. That was all he could see-

His mouth hung open for a bit, as he discovered his body getting warm- he started bending his hand into a fist. He did this several times till he could fully feel it- feel the brown, scratchy, itchy, rough skin.

_My heads spinning. Who am I?_

_Wait. I remember now. I'm Wile E. Coyote._

So it was- he remembered his full name, his animal biology, his _everything. _

Now that he remembered, it was only the first _step_. The second was stepping out of that cold metal chamber- which was more like a _stumble_. Wile fell flat to ground with a _smack! _It was all wet.

His first response was holding up a tiny, white sign with the word, "Ow" on it.

Wile got up, eager to find out where he was. He remembered who _he _was, but where he was was different.

It was a giant facility, all in blue tones, and surrounded on all sides by a _vast _amazing darkness with stars blazing as far as the eyes can see. Being a genius, he deduced he was in space- but that was impossible! He thought it couldn't be possible, but he could see it, and that's what it was. All his entire exposed self had suddenly gone _numb_, like being locked in an Ice Cream storage room. His teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

_So Cold. So VERY, VERY, VERY, COLD. Like Metal. Like a Vo-_

The irony of it was that he froze; like he suddenly remembered something.

_Like the emptiness of a Void. Like a machine that can open one. _

_A Void. _

Wile shook his head. _NO, get it together MAN, First, find out where exactly you are, then worry about details later! _

Wile stood up. He wasn't going to dwell on bad thoughts any more than sitting hunched over on the floor. As he turned around he could see the cold Metal Pod he'd been housed in, the one he'd awoken from... He felt scared and his ear lowered. And then, as he looked slowly to his left, he could see that there were _more _of those pods.

_Very odd. Those pods look like something out of Lost In Space-_

He couldn't finish because now he broke out in a big, long, _yawn_. On instinct, he also had to scratch his belly, that had felt _completely _unfulfilled for God knows _how _long. As he finished he walked over and inspected the pod. Like a washing machine, his mind was beginning to _start _up, rather frighteningly quick.

The machine was a cylinder in overall design, on a steep platform, and geared toward the purpose _of _holding in anything of a natural, organic shape. Inside, were six prongs leaking out a luquid, washing out over his body. The cold had been the water around his body. At the containers' base was a set of lit numbers saying,

"MARCH, 12TH, CENTURY 24-1/2"

_Now _Wile had a good reason to begin shaking. As he carefully read over that label like a fortune, it became obvious what happened.

He'd been frozen in that container. In FACT, the machine was probably keeping him inside, until at some point, _someone _had allowed said chamber to defrost. Once it was liquid, the container was unsealed. Being kept underwater was probably what kept him from feeling the prongs sustaining his life force pop off of him.

_But... _he thought distantly, still staring at that date. _That can't be right. I was born on November 1948_. _I was_...

Wherever that was going, ran into a wall- And so did Wile as he clutched his head, now undergoing a severe headache. He went _smack! _into the glass wall in full force. The glass didn't break, but he threatened to break out in tears, a busted lung, _or _an even _worse _headache after what he saw.

Wherever he was, the room was placed on top of an extremely high peak, overlooking what had to be the brightest and most futuristic looking cities in history. And par for the course, there were flying cars, floating ads, and not a single place to be seen that _wasn't _lit up in lights. It had all the praise of Hollywood written in it. It was huge. Far as Wile's eyes could take him, nothing but square mile of high-tech, silver-lined, impossible wonders of mechanical madness.

It was breathtaking, and like a shining paradise, but whatever the reason...

Wile felt like was going to faint.

_Okay, so I'm in a completely different time. Well, specifically, the future. I've been frozen, to a time, and space, divide... I'm not sure... how the universe... survived!_

_That was just weird. _

Wile heard a sound from far away, which was that of a door sliding open. Out of habit, Wile snuck behind the pod he escaped from and snuck a small peak.

A man stepped out from from the door opening, and it was very squat, funny-looking man with curly-red hair and a _gigantic _light-bulb on top of his head. He was reading off a large stapleboard, with a bunch of important papers on it. He had on a big white lab-coat, the sort that crazy mad scientists usually tend to wear.

"All right, I've just got to check the bio-signs of the first patient, then it's TACO Night, la-la-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la-la, la, la!" the strange man was scatting jovially. He went to one of the similar pods that was farthest to the left, while Wile remained hidden. He looked a little obnoxious and idiotic to be _looking _like a scientist. He had a small I.D. card on his chest that had the Initials: I.Q.

_Is that his name? And... what's...! _

Wile could see that this "I.Q." was talking to a tank that had an unidentifiable, bill-mouthed "shape" floating inside. By this time, Wile was getting a little paranoid and anxious; he thought that what happened to him, and his ending up quite possibly in the future as a result- _that _man had something to do with it. There was no doubt about it. But really... he looked too stupid to actually be a competent scientist

The scientist man, who name might have been I.Q., walked in front of a console, just like the one that stood in front of Wile's can. "Look's as if his temperature readings are normal," said the man, talking up to the container. "He's doing quite well... his down seems to be holding well against his skin..."

Then the doctors' eyes widened, as he noticed the container that Wile was in was not only empty, but it was just recently deactivated. "Huh? What on Earth?"

I.Q. rushed over and looked horrified to see the messy water all over the floor. Additionally, he was surprised to see that there was something _hairy _hiding behind platform. "What the-!"

Wile didn't need any more provocation. He proceeded to run frantically out of the room, ignoring the frightened, angry cries, of I.Q. who was yelling. "Hey! HOLD ON A SECOND! STOP! WAIT A MINUTE! SECURITY!"

I.Q. kept shouting for security, then later, became so obsessed with that, he forgot to fully inspect the broken tank.

Everything went past Wile's face like a blurry movie reel. He had no idea where he was going, and the thought of being caught by anybody in a world he didn't _recognize _was starting to sound scary. He kept thinking, _I'm going to caught, I'm going to get caught, I'm going to get caught I'm going to get caught...!_

Then somehow, he found he had escaped the _huge _building, that loomed over on high like a throned king. Either way, the streets were as mean as they looked from looking down that height. On the other hand, he didn't want to risk being caught, and the first opportunity he _got_, he ducked into a small alley, and sunk behind a trash can. Overhead, police sirens flew past the scene like soaring eagles, and Wile E. Coyote sat behind the dark of the can, feeling traumatized. Wile E. Coyote had no idea what happened.

_GROWL GROWL_

For the first time ever, he was very hungry.

Well, there _had _to be an eatery in the town didn't there? The problem was he'd have to go out into the open. And WORSE, he realized with a hungry groan, he could _smell _food not too far... it smelled _meaty_, drooling delicious... so GREAT... Juicy...

Police did come down the alley minutes later and found no escaped subject from the Protectorate. Only later would they be called in to make a hasty investigation at Neighborly's Ground level Restaurant at the "Headspinner District".

**Meanwhile**...

Ignatius was struck dumb by the sudden turn of events, all of which seemed a little _off_.

"And you're positive that it was a _Coyote_, sir?"

"Yes, Johnson."

"But that's utterly ridiculous. They're usually predators, they tend to stay territorial and act a little savagely, especially when it comes down to hunting food."

"Yes, I know."

Johnson was laughing, finding some of this hard to believe. While he never majored in animal studies in college, the one thing he retained was a minor on coyotes, their natural habitats, the deserts, and that certain elements, some he had no idea of _what_, were possible reasons that led up to their extinction by the _first century_, the same time as when Space Flight, and Rocket Engines were made possible.

"I thought they were extinct," Johnson said.

"Yes, so did I," Ignatius yelled. "But unfortunately, I'm not so sure about that. I never actually took any study classes on Animals. FACT, the only studying I've ever done was centered on the Protectorate's top secret "Project"."

Johnson looked perplexed. "Hold on, sir. Are you talking about... him?"

"Hmm?" Ignatius was in thought and hadn't heard. Johnson said it over again. "Oh, that, no that's not what I meant, I was actually referring to the effects of the Florana Styglepag Jumping Beans in a Three-Bean Salad. No, the OTHER thing- not so sure about that. _He's _a genuine born earthling with all the qualifications... alledgedly," he said this while staring down at a taped piece of newspaper on a centuries' old football game.

"But it's a little out of protocol immediately recruit an Earthling that doesn't possess the mental capacity to actually comply with the demands of serving his sworn duty to protect the the planet!" Johnson yelled.

In a rare moment, Ignatius swiftly turned around and gave Johnson one of the most serious glares he'd even seen. Searing, noble, and a little defiant, you almost immediately knew what he was going to say next.

"Johnson, _have _you actually fully achieved all the qualifications to become _Head _of the Protectorates? Your last test says _otherwise_."

Johnson fell silent, then rode into stammering. "Ww-well I... I-I'm a outstanding high-ranking officer of the commanding B-forces, and Officer Soliel is on equal status same as me..."

"_But_, and pardon the expression, _I, _no, _this _universe, needs someone who will probably be treated like the underdog. Maybe not a legitimate hero or a Cookie-cutter one... Commanding officers like you. Now don't give me that look. You have an outstanding record, and you've been nominated for "Best Clean Cut Hair Award" 5 years notwithstanding. Aurora? Her best asset deals exclusively with her fast clean-up record and pursuit of galactic villainous threats. However, that has all the efficiency of machine with 5x the input to 4x the output. Furthermore, we need someone who can bring peace back and forth between the planet Earth and Mars."

He fell silent. "I know this is a gamble, but at the least, it's something worth betting on."

"You're really banking all the Earth's hopes on this, Professor?"

"Yes, Johnson, yes I am. But that's not important now. We need to worry about this minor dillemma."

Johnson took a more professional pose. "As it turns out, Professor, I'm already launching an investigation into that matter. Several of my top men under me are in fact busy at the moment scouring the streets for any trace of the mysterious felon. However I would like to request any more information on the subject in question."

"Yeah, I got nothin'," Ignatius answered simply.

"Yes, Professor, that is an ample level of information should- wait. WHAT?" Johnson gawked.

"There is nothing on this guy. The coyote? I had no idea he was in that container, until today." The professor and Commander continued walking down to the cafeteria.

Johnson fell silent and found something was off about the Professor's story. Ignatius continued on. "You didn't know? This facility, though particularly this floor has always been used for the study and experimentation involving Cryogenics. I wasn't the original owner of this facility, but I bought it out after the business went bankrupt and unleashed to a private firm called "Sundance Industries". This was where I came up with the idea to start the Protectorate."

Johnson stopped dead in his tracks, surprised by this new revelation. When Ignatius saw that he stopped, he stopped also and turned around to say, "the Price was, well... give or take $100,000.00. And this was just after I graduated college with a Grant that was worth $700,000.00, in my collaboration science experiment that resulted in the theory of developing capsules that would keep the subject from gaining _any weight_. It was a STEAL."

Johnson folded his hands and at the moment was at a loss for words. He decided to careful what he'd ask next. "Professor? Does anybody else know what _you _yourself have just told me?"

"No. And _I _trust that _you _will never speak of this with anybody else," said Ignatius, who raised an eyebrow with Johnson. Johnson, a little betrayed that his trust was being tested in this way, assumed a defensive tone. "Sir, you have my honest word! I am an elite member of the what I know _is _the most powerful defense the Earth has. We are also its humble servants. I would never dishonor or betray its trust in any way by divulging sensitive information of any kind that would implicate and force asolvement."

Ignatius didn't sense any kind of mistrust or falling in the Star Mallory Johnson's tone, and he confirmed this with a strict nod. "Good. Then I should also probably divulge something else... I'm afraid that unlike our _other _future prodigy, who we recently discovered had been accidentally frozen and moved here secretly out of the public eye, I had _no _idea that there was another _subject _that'd been left behind by the previous owners."

Johnson stared dumbly at him.

"What?" I.Q. yelled. "It was an accident! It could happen!... maybe."

Johnson suddenly had a thought he voiced before it slipped his mind. "Hold on, Professor. If the _other _subject escaped, wouldn't that have triggered the _automatic system alarm_? And more importantly, what the heck was the security doing right around the time that this Subject escaped?"

Ignatius gave a long, drawn out look of grim worry to Star Johnson, before switching his attention to the staple board and the small, unusual piece of torn Newspaper clipping layered in the far back. "_That's _what worries me, Johnson. But unfortunately, I think we should you probably keep these questions on down-lo-lo for moment. I just need you to track down this missing experiment this uh... um..."

"Coyote?" Johnson put in I.Q.'s mouth.

"Yeah that thing!" said I.Q.

Johnson assumed perfect military prose, saluted the Professor and said, "Yes sir."

"Dismissed." Star Johnson left.

When he was alone, I.Q. started speaking aloud to himself, muttering discontentedly. He started to rub his chin with his rubber gloves, looking more like that famous statue. "Inventory: _I _know for a _fact _that was a genuine Scraggly, anorexic-looking Coyote with that Keen look of _genius _mixed into his eyes. Hmm... **those eyes**. GENIUS... mixed in with massive levels of panic and paranoia. He certainly _acted _like most people who'd been frozen 3 centuries ago, and his response time was typical of newcomers to the _future_; but he didn't bother attempting to wait. They _scare me_. Like a _predators_'. Like 5 sets of 9-layered Bean Burritos. He may have been much more smarter than we could've let on. That and he just happened to awaken no less than 5 days before the other subject we actually brought in is awakened, and the Cadet we hired from **Swinus 9 **arrives."

He paused and drew in an "overly-dramatic" breath. He usually loved hearing himself talk.

"And Coyotes, if my history stands to memory, have been known for being avid chasers of an extinct rare bird, but also possessing inherited high-level engineering capabilities for the mechanical, woodwork, and technology."

He paused again. As he stepped back into the pod room containing, among other things, 4 pods, two of them empty, 1 full, and other ejected and leaving wet residue over the floor (WOAH, he'd have to call in the sanitary department later, and by Sanitary dept., he really meant Bigfoot.) he observed and noted the camera sitting in the corner, and reasoned that any form of action that took place inside the Cryo-chamber would _have _to be recorded from the control room, and anything _inside _that didn't occur without any outside force _entering _the room would also be recorded, and naturally that would've set off the automatic alarms.

And sent several immediate recalls to Specialists to rush in.

And they would've sent reports to I.Q. in if he hadn't chosen that specific day to check on "Project D", right when the other one had already just been released from his confinement.

And _NONE came. _

I.Q. came to a conclusion.

"Maybe I might have watched too many mystery flicks, but I've got a SINKING suspicion that... I _have just missed my only opportunity to get in on first Free Tacos _ on Taco Day!"

DUN DUN DUN

- **Duck Dodgers in the 24th & 1/2 CENTURY: A Qwack in Time**


	2. Pickles

"AAAAAAAH!" A lady screamed in a terrified voice.

But it was over a Burger, that she was expecting. "This Burger has _no pickles! AAAAAAH!" _

"Oh whatever is the matter Miss?" said a portly-looking man that walked over to the Lady sitting at the desk. "This BURGER has pickles!"

"Well, I'm the manager!" said the man. "I'm Mister I.M. Neighborly, head of Neighborlys... Ground Level Restaurant. Because we haven't installed the Silicone Levetation Pads just yet. I will talk to our head chef about this immediately. CHEF!" he screamed.

This shout was directed at a monstrous-looking man covered in all-red, with a bushy head and beady eyes, manning the cash register and short line of people standing in front of the counter.

"Where's the New Trainee!" Neighborly shouted.

"UAAAGHK, uhhaag, eeaaugh, Oog," said the red monster pointing the direction of the kitchen. As if on cue, the The new Trainee, a fat pig, came out smelling of fresh grease and incredibly high methane. "Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-you called sir?"

"This lady has NO pickled on her Burger! What the HECK ARE DOING IN THERE!"

"I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-sorry, sir. B-b-b-bb-b-ut I ran out of pickles a short time ago. Someone's been sneaking back here and sneaking Pickle Rations behind our backs!"

"What!" screamed some of the Restaurant goes waiting in the line. "This is an outrage!"

"I can't LIVE without Pickles!" screamed one man, raising his fist in anger.

"It's the little things that actually make Something so..." a lady wearing a tank-top standing in line said, and sighed. "Enjoyable."

"YEAAH! Like, Bro, where's the Salt to our Peppers! The Pop to our Corn!" said a guy with a surfer accent.

"I thought we were talking about Burgers, not Popcorn," said the first guy in line.

"Trainee! When exactly did they start... _disappearing? _WHO'S responsible!" The manager angrily demanded. He stormed over and eyed the Cashier suspiciously, who began to form sweat drops and smiled nervously."Was it... YOU!"

The bell on the door suddenly ringed, and the door burst open. Two mean-looking police officers suddenly burst in with guns in hand. "Everyone _freeze_!"

"Police!"

The bald policeman walked over and showed his badge. "No need to fear sir, we're working under the soon-to-be-relatively known and somewhat famous Galactic Protectorate on official business, under investigation."

"Officers! You mean that you're hear to investigative the horrible shortage of Pickles that have been just recently stolen from my restaurant!"

"Pickles...?" said the policeman.

The second policeman walked over and said. "I've done some interviewing, sir, apparently, this restaurant is suffering a shortage of Pickles in the last hour. All customers going here have been victim of Burgers with no Pickles between the Tomatoes and meat."

The police officer's face stiffened in anger. "No... PICKLES! What sort of twisted _fiend_ would steal _pickles _from a restaurant!" Then he fell on his knees. "It's like that time that my Cousin's Daughter's Niece... and the Pocky... Oh sweet Saint AlaBAMA the POCKY!" He clenched his fist, remembering the horrifying events like a movie reel. The other officer walked over and put a hand over his shoulder. "It's all right Marty. You couldn't have known. Just let it out out."

The crowd was a little confused to the events, but then the police officer got up and regained his dignity. "Uh, okay. Sir. You have any leads in mind?"

Neighborly eyed his cashier, still sweating like meat in a eatery shop during summer. "I've got a FEW."

"Sounds like enough evidence for conviction to ME," said the second officer who's name was Timmy. Timmy walked over and asked, "ALRIGHT! _Where were you the Night of June 12th!_ _Wherewasyourmotherscherrypie! What color's my UNDERWEAR!_"

Except the monster was now sweating even harder till Officer Marty walked over and asked, "Uh sir, I don't think he's the one."

"Didn't our orders from Johnson say that our subject in question was hairy and suspicious-looking?" Timmy asked.

"Yeah, but," interjected Timmy, "They also said he was of a painfully physical thinness. This monster may be hairy, and _maybe _suspcious looking, but he's got more meat on him than a cow!"

At this the Cashier simply blushed. Marty scratched his chin thoughtful and said, "Hmm... In that case, the perp _we're _after is the single most _hungry _being in the entire galaxy since the Fred Fredburger, the Fat Free Tofu/Yogurt/Chili-Dog King from Planet Billus Mandius Grimeaus 8!"

Neighborly interjected with, "So THAT person would have more incentive to steal this restaurant's ever important supply of Pickles, the single crucial elements that make our Burgers very tasty and appealling to the public eye. Every Pickle that comes to this restaurant costs me $500.00. The same price as... ONE GALLON OF GAS."

THRUM.

"Very Tasty and Appealing the Public eye, Indeed," agreed Marty. Then he turned his attention to the crowd. "HEY! Are any of you suspicious-looking convicts of unhealthy physical shape or stealing high-priced Pickles from this eatery?"

The entire crowd looked fearful, but none of them looked like thieves. In fact, most shook their hands. The only person in that crowd of typical Burger Goers that looked even the least bit suspicious was an extremely anaemic, hungry-looking, famished, big-nosed, hairy-looking guy with a rough bushy tail standing in the back of the line and clutching some kind of salty-looking liquid in his hands... and also some on his lips, and that look of extreme panic, terror, guilt, and traumatization. And he was standing in front of some dark-skinned man with wild hair and a Hawaiian T-shirt and shorts and sandals and holding a _green _magazine.

"HEY you!" Marty screamed. He walked over to the hairy man. the one wearing the T-Shirt. "Where were you went they invented Hoverboards!"

"Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho maun, _It it to-ta-lee really cool how Hoverboards have made the surf really all the most exciting_, I hope to go back to aquatis and catch some of da best waves I've ever had!" said the cheery Hawaiian-sounding man.

Marty planned on more questions, but instead his mouth hung open like he'd just realized something had gone horribly wrong with this whole situation.

"Um... never mind. Hey, YOU!"

This was directed at the even _hairier-looking _man with rough and battered-looking long ears and suspicious, switching eyes... _suspicious_, flighty, nasty _eyes_. The hairy man didn't bother looking away, aware he'd been spotted.

"Yeah, YOU, BUDDY! Ya know I'ma Talkin' ta you," he said. Wile darted both eyes in other directions, a little confused.

"Have you seen anyone suspicious around pilfering Pickles, maybe a certain, _hairy_ individual with Aneamic bodies and FREAKISHLY skinny arms!" He shouted in Wile's face.

Now the whole crowds' attention was drawn towards him. Wile's next response was a slide of the hand and then a pull to reveal a small sign that read,

(_Uh... no?_)

The officer stared sternly at Wile, then relented. Clearly they had no evidence. And other than the bizzare looking stranger, wearing _no _clothes, who'd just told him no via tiny white sign that seemed to come out of nowhere, there seemed to be absolutely _nothing _suspicious about the situation.

"Oh, well, mysterious guy, you have a point, thank you for your co-operation. Hey, here's 20 bucks," said Marty in a friendly voice as he handed over a nice, crisp 20 dollar bill. Now Wile was _really _confused; and frightened. He sniffed the bill like it was a more dangerous predator than him. Marty let out a hearty big laugh and chuckled, "Ho-ho, ah, don't worry about it, mysterious trusty stranger! Take it! You helped us confirm that the perp we're looking for is not here! It takes a lot of guts in this crazy Dog-eat-dog world of ours in the 24th & 1/2 century to still be brave enough to be an Honest joe! You earned it. Completely! And, If you're looking for a way off the planet, all you have to do is go to _Akbars' Discount Intergalactic_ _Spaceships_, 2 miles north 3 meters to the left South adjacent, or next to, a Clothing Store owned by a guy named Jim!"

Wile pulled out another, slightly larger sign that said,

(_... Thanks?_)

Marty's hearty smile didn't fade, while Wile stood there, still holding the 20, looking as if he'd just encountered a rattlesnake that coughed up a strawberry sucker. Then out of terror, Wile turned his heels and prepared to flee, when all of a sudden, one of the restaurant goers suddenly yelled:

"HEY! I just _realized he's not wearing ANY CLOTHES! AAAAAAAAH!_"

And that, of course, just set the rest of the restaurant aflame with screaming customers. Most ducked under their tables and other stared slack-jawed at the "Nudist Practitioner" only several inches from the door and without any form of help in sight.

His mouth dropped open in horror (and slightly more confusion) while the officer that just handed him the 20 had done a full 360. "Wait... YEAH, _you're not wearing _any _clothes, BUB!_" Then he got up all in the poor, disgruntled coyote's face. "_Well LISTEN, HERE, Trusty McRusty, WE'RE a bunch of decent Keen wizards who have the dignity and respect to think about other people's feelings! YOU think you can just stroll in here and enforce your CREEPY, misguided Hippie philosophy on an unsuspecting public! YEAH? You think you're saY-VIN' nature by abandoning your moral fibers! You think that's cool! Like... LIKE Smokin'! Well WE'RE city folk! We'all don't taek kendly to your type around here, MISTER! That is a GROSS misappropriation of the law!" _

Out of his cursed Habit of "Signage", Wile said,

(_Don't you mean... misinterpretation?_)

And this answer was met with the officer's _gun _jabbed right into his nose.

"_I know what I said!... Probably!_"

Wile felt his whole world go white and then out of the restaurant of laughing, pig-faced humans who inhabited that tiny space. He didn't bother looking back, and his feet, pounding as hard on the pavement as his heart was from all the SHOCKS he was having, were getting the worst working out he had since he escaped from that horrible chamber that towered to the sky.

Officer Marty continued standing there with his gun looking deranged, than put it away. "Tch..." he grumbled. "Crazy kids and their New Age Nudist Jibberjabber! It makes me SICK!"

Timmy walked over while reading a small paper. "Baring the brown fur, those long ears, his bushy tail and _big, floppy, doggy _feet, there was something pretty suspicious about that guy, though..."

"Yeah, what's suspicious is that ANY Anthro is legally required to wear human clothing like THE REST OF US! Nasty Pervert! Just when you _thought _you could trust some people."

"And what about my pickles?" yelled Neighborly.

"I'm sorry sir," Marty remarked sadly. "But I guess we've run out of leads. This restaurant has _run _out of Pickles."

At that moment everyone heard a noise like descending _fire _from the sky reach the ground, and Captain Star Johnson, via jet-pack, suddenly gloriously came into view.

Marty and Timmy assumed protocol and stood at attention. "Commander!"

"Stand ground, officers. I came to check with you on a _certain _matter of galactic _importance... _and also, to buy_ myself a cheeseburger _with... PICK-kles."

Timmy and Marty stared at each other, then Timmy nervously stated, "Well, see, ABOUT that, sir. This restaurant has run out of supply."

Johnson's face froze. "I beg your pardon...?"

Marty put it simply. "Commander, this restaurant has no more pickles. And the culprit has most likely gotten away."

Johnson was an even-tempered _man_ at most times, but this was upsetting news at least. "But that's impossible! No restaurant should be-!"

Manager Neighborly casually noted, "_Yes_, we know."

"Well I'm..." Johnson tried to find the right words to express his sorrow. "Sorry to hear about that. I guess I'll have to go back to HQ for the Tacos... _ahem_, anyways, have you caught the escaped culprit from the Cryo-chamber, the one that looks like a coyote?"

Marty and Timmy's faces were shrouded in confusion. Johnson spotted it in several seconds. "Something wrong?"

"Sir, aren't coyotes extinct? About 99% extinct since the start of the 2nd Century!" said Timmy. "For..." he gulped hard. "Extinct. Forbidden Technology utilizing the ulterior powers sealed within Voids!"

"HOW did...?" Johnson gawked, then shook his head, and bit his lip. Instead, what came out was, "What the devil are Schools teaching these days? Never mind. Our perp is in fact, a _coyote_. A very _wily, wiry one _too. He escaped the lab no less than an hour ago. He's a Hairy, anaemic looking shut-in with inherent engineering talent, two hairy ears, one bitten, _fleas_ all over, floppy doggy feet, and skinny arms and legs."

To say that both Timmy and Marty looked like they just dropped five loads of dangerous Fusion Grenades inside a Children's Crane machine would've been a severe understatement. Not fully aware of information that Johnson was withholding from them, or endowed with the full implications of why such a creature let alone, one of them who they (though mostly Marty) just let go free _with 20 bucks AND sufficient information for a reasonably priced FREE ride_ off the planet, they had unexpectedly let a _wanted _convict by Star Johnson, _their _high-ranking, top of the line Captain Star Johnson, escape scott free- and _IN the nude_, for God's sake!

"Cadets?" Johnson asked, startled by their immensely white faces. "Something wrong?"

"Sir, if _that's _the description of the guy you want us to bring back then..."

- 6 minutes of a Tearful, Humiliating **Recapping later... **-

All three were outside. "YOU WHAT!"

"Y-you said you wouldn't get MAD, Commander!" Marty screamed.

"You EVEN gave the subject directions for ESCAPING the PLANET, YOU IDIOTS! WHERE IN YOUR HEAD DID YOU THINK THAT WAS A GOOD **IDEA!** Oh, and by the way..."

In one easy, furious swoop, Johnson easily overcame the squealing Marty like a cat pouncing on a mouse. "_Captain Star Johnson doesn't make ANY Promises! I only make Guarantees! _And BELIEVE you me, Mister, I GUARANTEE 5 hours in the _Silent Chamber_ as soon as I we get back to HQ!"

Johnson wasn't as furious because up to this point he felt like was just clutching at straws, over some pitiful long-lost piece of evidence of a species that was _historically _read as dead.

But not completely, as it turned out.

"Rings of SATURN! I'm CUTTING your Christmas bonus this break, _do you hear me! _Now get going, you _idiots!_"

Marty and Timmy needed no further excuse to not bear more horrible yelling from a superior officer. At the most, they got off easy. People who crossed Star Johnson's path were usually last seen in The Daily Blunder's headline page.

"20 Bucks! What did you expect to get with THIS?"

Of course Wile couldn't answer that question. The only thing he was thinking was how good an idea it was for him to _take _up a helpful suggestion from two of _the _biggest idiot cops he'd ever seen.

He'd arrived a large-scale junk-yard that had all the trimmings but in size felt like an _ant _compared with everything else in the gigantic city chock full of floating cars, and the giant monolith that was a globular sphere sitting on top of a hierarchy with all the dimensions of a _huge _trashcan.

This junkyard was cluttered; bent rudders to spaceships and other _huge _things he couldn't dream of, metal debris, Generators, scraped piles of split motors, smashed T.V.s, support beams that would've made those of greatest _church_ in history feel miniscule, FURNACES! thin-fibered filters as long as 30 feet, and all that was just what he _could _see... a treasure cove of _wonders _and it was just the tip of the iceberg. He didn't have the time, but his mind, growing less and less "Freaked out" from all the "Advancements" he'd seen of Earth so far, was beginning to calm a little. this junk yard felt like home. Maybe this world was not as bad he thought it was...

"HEY! HEY!"

Wile snapped out of it, and saw the portly-looking man still standing in front of his shed. "What are you looking for anyway? "_clothes_?" You won't find that here, chum!" Then the greasy man's attention was geared away from the befuddled Wile towards something behind him. "Yesh, chum! You've got some nasty-looking friends."

Wile was thinking the same thing, but for completely different reasons. He looked absolutely destroyed.

A large fleet of officers in 9 cars had just arrived on the scene, and regrettably, the two officers he saw before who called him "Nudist".

_I need to disappear FAST. _

The police officers Marty and Timmy were the first to arrive on the scene with steely sternness in their eyes as they approached the proprietor. They flashed their badges as they said, "Officers Marty Fischer and Timmy Nelson. We're on investigation of a suspicious looking coyote-type character, NO clothes, is totally exposed, has the physical physique of a 5-year-old girl, and has twenty bucks on hand and no pockets to put them in due to the fact that he isn't wearing ANY pants."

The greasy man held up the 20 Dollar bill. "I can vouch for this guy on the Twenty dollars bit, but, uh, ya'll just missed'em, chums. He gave me Twenties and then lickety split. Problem, now he's somewhere inside the facility, maybe looking for a spaceship. I mean I, DO sort of have a business here in selling off old and not so useable, or _safe_ intergalactic travelling devices. I _am_, Akbar, after all."

Most of the other officers weren't even paying attention. They were staring at the sky, with their mouths hanging open.

"What's everybody looking at?" said Akbar, now confused and annoyed. As he turned his head he understood- but he didn't like what he saw.

That "Strange lookin' Nudist" he'd gotten 20 from was seen about 30 feet into the air in one of the most slipshod, ramshackle and worn-out pieces of metal cobbled together ever seen. So slipshod was it that leaving a pretty curly, smoky trail as it wearily ascended _up_.

"Huh. Ain't that a surprise. I didn't even know anybody dumped a _Ford_ _Yackel escape pod B-9 down here. _Those jump heaps couldn't fly a thing Thirt-TEEN miles to the nearest anti-matter fuelling station! Am I rite, or am I rite? Right?"

Once Akbar turned around the policemen had already went to alert and frantically scurried out of the area in a big hurry.

"They all left me... oh well. I really could go for a burger right about now. Mmm. Maybe one with Pickles!"

- **Meanwhile**...

_Okay, _thought Wile. _I'm cramped. _

The only comfort from that thought he felt was knowing that he managed to get away from that huge city, the blazing lights, the glaring faces, and idiots. That and he accidentally scratched his head against the rusty ceiling that enclosed the screaming metal death trap he was mounting. In all the chaos, it flew over his head how _specifically _he managed to make the obviously out-of-date machinery work.

On the _other _hand, aside from being bombarded with so many scary things in a world he didn't recoginze, even the issue of his own insatiable hunger (The pickles just weren't doing it), he felt sort of... alive.

Blood dripped down his face; but it wasn't serious. He sure did feel dizzy though! Though that heavily depended... again, he had to reaffirm that he'd jumped 3 centuries into the future, if those discarded newspapers he found sitting inside were correct. And he had absolutely no idea _how that happened. _

It wasn't so incredibly shrunken space inside there. It was all cylinder. Gone red and sticky rotted from what he could guess was iron oxide, his aching, rough body found it hard to sit. But he didn't really have a choice.

There was a pair of rusted sticks sticking out on the sides, what he felt the first time he plopped right in. He _was _in a hurry to just get away, but just from _where _did he leave? And where was he going? When he thought like that, it all sounded like a bad sci fi in his head- and he might have been right. He was probably _in _one.

The sticks were for steering he discovered. Without knowing why, he grabbed them. TOO bad he had NO way of seeing, let alone, knowing where he was going.

Then right in front of his big nose sprang a large floating light. Wile panicked and threatened to jump out, forgetting for minute that _whereever _he was headed, he was probably now past the Earth's atmosphere-

_Hmm? Button?_

And there was something else. There was a small "Line" above with a hatch door. He opened it and both eyes bulged out in shock. No question. He was _definitely _in the air, and bove the huge city, and the rickety rustbucket was still doing its job. The only problem was he could several flying spaceships quickly homing in towards his pod...

_I NEED A MIRACLE!_

Now he was beginning to get frantic. He started pressing multiple buttons, his hands flying all over and the bleeding on the side of his head growing dry. Strange, even in this insanity, his hairy fingers started flying at all the loose, bent wires and reconnecting them to a 3 inch ring adapter just to the side of the cramped space... but that _didn't _make him panic. If anything, something like that seemed to happen, because he was under the fear of being _pursued. _Add to the pain of sitting on top of a bunch junk and garbage some idiot had put down in the metal pod, he was upset and shaking because everything was so terrible and he just _wanted _things to go normally- and he didn't even _remember _what that was like, other than knowing his own name. The pod was beginning to get unbearably hot; finally, one of the buttons he pressed started flashing Red on and off...

His head was BURNING. His eyes started to spin.

_SPIN._

**meanwhile...**

"This is Star Johnson of the Ulterior, ready to capture the... WHAT THE!"

All the ships under Johnson could see just as well. The subject they were trying to track down's pod suddenly _increased _in thrust, despite its' clumsy exit into the outer layers of the Earth's atmosphere.

One of the men at the consoles was reading the energy levels of the thrusters. "Reaching 3.2... 3.5... 3.9... 4.0!"

"4.0!" Johnson burst out screaming. "That CAN'T be right! Most engine thrusters this day and age can only charge a magmum energy level of 3.8. And that's the Protectorate's strongest weapons in tow!" _Is this what you meant, I.Q., when you said that the Coyotes had some Crazy Mumbo Jumbo High Tier Engineering Talent... ! _Johnson thought with a shudder... then the next thought made him feel cold.

_If he's the one who's doing that... If he can... is it really SAFE to actually bring him back alive?_

"Fire at the pod!" Johnson ordered.

One member turned around and said, "But Captain! Didn't the Professor give explicit orders to retrieve this guy we're _after ali-!_"

"I'M the commanding OFFICER here!" Johnson's terrible tone roared over the cowering suboardinates. "DO as I SAY! It's not like we're playing Second Banana to some Idiot any time in the Foreseeable Future! Shoot at the pod BEFOREit has any time to ES-!"

Unfortunately, he didn't finish. On the big screen monitor at the head of the ship, The entire crew and Johnson could see what had just happened. The energy meter had, and was still going up in front of one of the crew members. The Bar kept going up from yellow to red, to a seriously _deep_ red.

The rusty metal pod getting further and further away from them, shot out like a Pinball machine bumper, left behind a devastating beam of incredible light in its wake. The huge burst of energy caused the pod gain a terrible level of amazing speed. In seconds, the pod jumped lightyears ahead of the Ulterior, then vanished into a blip at the horizon. There was no way they were going to catch up to it now.

All ships under Johnson ceased any further pursuit, everyone now having clearly seen the events firsthand.

Johnson kept staring at the screen until his eyes would've fell out. He thought for a second he might not have been alive because he wasn't breathing. But after a second he did breathe, and noticed he was drenched in sweat.

"Captain...?" said one of the subordinates.

"Hmm?"

"Should we attempt to pursue the spacecraft?"

Instead of giving him a straight answer, Johnson took in a deep breath, and picked up a Microphone, which would allow him to speak to all ships. "This is Captain Star Johnson speaking... I would like all ships to retreat immediately. As it stands, we cannot afford to overstep our authority and invade the space of Martian territory, lest we cause war between the two planets. Fall back to the Protectorate HQ. That is all," he said, putting the microphone away. The next thing he did was stand up and walk over to the monitor and stare listlessly at the monitor for a few minutes.

Try as he might he couldn't grasp the magnitude of what unknown danger was now somewhere, lightyears beyond their reach, wildly speeding into the unseen chaos of the universe.

"Sir? Didn't you just say before that we had to shoot the craft? Won't I.Q. be upset about that, let alone the fact that the subject in question has completely escaped both our sights, bio-sensors and tracking radars?"

"Frank," said Johnson, now giving his subordinate a stern-eyed gaze, "Consider your Christmas bonus unmade."

**Meanwhile-**

**Valeria Galaxy - 34892 parsecs later**

The power of lightspeed: this in fact was the level of speed that superceded _light_. while neither air, nor light can travel in space, that didn't help to explain why Wile felt like a pressed iron as the ship charged into hyperdrive.

The Pod, despite whatever you think, had reached a destination safely, an uncharted, unmapped barren planet that seemed to be be surrounded by a very stable atmosphere... which made for a perfect 3-point landing upon entry.

The Pod crashed, and it was heavy landing. It bounced repeatedly, denting the feeble-looking transport like a wave against a rock. A little more of it was starting to give and wear out, till even the engine, beyond repair, suddenly broke off the bottom _end _of the ship. Lots of metal debris was flying _all _over the entire landscape, and the glass plating around _where _Wile had a less-than-scenic view of the action shattered. shards flew outward instead of in, and his head banged against the ceiling and... pretty much all the inside.

The ship finally made one final crash on the rough sand.

_CRASH!_

Wile's thoughts felt like a cabinet of smashed glass; he thought it couldn't get any worse after seeing how his head was a literal volcano. There was small drops of red liquid in the tank, but even all of that was smashed up against his face.

_Intentory. I'm bleeding from my head, my body feels like 5 miles of bad road, and the ship has crashed. I seem to be in a lot of pain, and I feel like the inside of a can of sardines. _

_And the worst part of it is... I've run out of pickles. _

And then it got worse: he remembered that whatever lay in his past, he knew that he hated pickles.

**Later On**

Struggling against the pain of the wreckage and the dried blood on his head, Wile pulled free from it. There were _plenty _of advantages to being abominably skinny, he noted.

The ship was destroyed- even worse than the pitiful wreck he saw in Akbar's junkyard. All the parts were missing, and it was a smoking pile of junk. Wile felt a strong urge to get away from it, and obeyed his instincts. They had been correct, he realized, because once he was 5 feet away what remained of the miserable ship/pod burst into flames. The wildfire started to smoke away what little was left; the ship groaned like it was a living thing that was dying. The explosion sent more things flying.

_I guess there's no more point in using that, _he thought to himself. Then he fell over because he could only manage the strength to wrestle free of the wreckage that would've killed him if it'd exploded sooner.

_I don't understand. I remember my name. I remember that I hate pickles... but it was the only thing I could steal at the moment... _the voice in his head died then sprang back to life, beset with hopelessness. _I feel terrible. I'm in so much PAIN. Worse, I'm far off from anyone I know, let alone anyone I could be familiar with. And I'm trapped in the future... go figure. _

Just thinking that made it all more hopeless; if he had the strength, he would've curled up into a ball. But for some foolish reason he kept holding onto his dignity. Wile turned over on his back and felt the full force of the scorching sun, and finally acknowledged how _hot _it was. And _yeesh_, there was no question about it.

_Where... am I... anyway? _The sun kept beating down on his head and it made it harder to _think_.

Wile turned his head to side and saw desert and mountains. His optimism briefly sprang up to life. He turned his head to the other side and saw nothing else but deserts, and several trees... but he could have been hallucinating.

_Is this what another planet looks like? I get 20 dollars and that gets me a spacecraft, one I would never have jumped into in my entire LIFE, and then I wind up leaving Earth's atmosphere, which, until Kennedy came along, should have been impossible- I guess that's plausible... I... I'm on another planet. I'm on... another planet_, he thought over and over.

Suddenly Wile forgot about the dried blood on his head, and the excruiating pain; strange, but he felt more like he was recovering quickly. He finally stood up. He looked around and tuned his ears to detect anything resembling a sound- but he didn't hear anything... other than the scorching wind that blew past.

3 centuries and humanity moves into the space age- but he didn't fully grasp whatever norm or popular thing they were all following, because he'd been too busy to escape. Truth was, he had no idea where he was going, and now he had no idea if wherever he was going was where he _wanted _to go. And now it looked like he was stuck, with no way of going back. A very unwise decision that put him in unavoidable circumstances.

His heart sank.

Stuck on another planet, baren, like an entire desert as he'd seen from the window, said pod blown up and completely destroyed.

In another galaxy...

And he was _alone._


	3. Alone

**8 Months Later, back on Earth, Solar System, Day 9th of November**

Admiral Aurora Soleil took her medal and then assumed her position at the podium. There was a standing ovation - she was first _female _captain in the Protectorate to work her way up and receive an 8th award for her personal best in the tracking record, reconnaissance work, and covert level enforcement of the Protectorate law by which all soldiers stand by...

"Thank you very much for the reward," said she in the modest tone possible. She wasn't very good with making speeches. "but unfornately, medals are just medals. What really counts is dedication and motivation... to do what is beneficial to the safety of the universe."

In the front rows I.Q. was sitting with Captain Star Johnson, and was among many of those who were the last to end with the ovation. Aurora brushed back her jet black hair as she continued.

Johnson whispered to I.Q., "She's truly an exceptional prodigy, isn't she?"

"Oh, yes, definitely," the Professor whispered back, checking his watch. That whole evening he looked worrisome, and almost fell asleep. Twice! "Huh. I wonder where the heck is that crazy duck?"

Johnson wasn't paying attention and said, "Yes, and she has such great speech-saying skills _too!... what_'s that you're saying about a buck?"

"I'm just saying he's been missing for the _last two years_," I.Q. explained.

Johnson tried understanding what he was talking about but simply said, "Eh. I'm sure it'll work out."

**MEANWHILE, **_**again**_**, 8 months ago, Valeria Galaxy, May 2nd**

_I'm alone. Heheheh. I'm ALONE. The only thing that would make it better is if I was dead... _

_Hmm? _

He could see it, but he had to squint _really _hard to make it out. west of him was a vague-squarish looking object that he decided was probably also inside the pod, and blown out by the time it'd exploded. Wile didn't see what point there was to inspecting, but... it wasn't like he had anything _better _to do.

Wile walked over. The object was definitely getting clearer, just like focusing a big lens. When he reached the box-shape, Wile was in for a surprise- it was a wooden box, no bigger than a package box, with a rusty-looking gold-colored wind-up handle sticking on left side.

It was covered in a wooden lid. But being the animal he was, he crouched over, and stuck out his huge nose to sniff the box; for all he knew, it might have exploded and taken his entire body.

He sniffed- and sniffed.

_SNIFF SNIFF SNIIIIIIIIFF_

Nothing dangerous about the box. But what if he _touched _it?

He did try. He reached out his rough, skinny arm to touch it, but didn't, when without warning it suddenly popped open. A big cone popped right out of it!

It was curved and had a cone like shape facing outward at Wile, and the base was a shrinking cylinder. it like it was made of plastic, and it held a needle at the base lightly floating over a small, unlabelled black disk... the design of the sharp needle suggested it read vibrations; it acted much like an arm...

_Holy saint Sebastian, I know what that is! My father... owned one... himself. He called it a Gramophone. _

That didn't make him feel any better though. It only raised more questions; and forced a cowardly Wile E. Coyote to step back. He didn't like what he was seeing.

And just how, out of all the things he could have encountered, did it HAVE to be _this_, a thing he barely remembered?

_My Dad sometimes used this to play music, and he was proud of it. I didn't really care for it though. He put it away in storage the last time I ever saw it... _

_But... did that mean that there was someone else on this planet? _

He had no way of knowing, and he didn't know what to do- this kept getting confusing by the second.

(_Maybe I should turn it on._)

What else was there? Wile lowered the needle and then started to wind the box handle. When he finished, he kept bent over and waited.

The machine creaked to life; the needle was hitting the record, and a voice suddenly started speaking from the phone.

"- _Hello, I'm the AGICALC, the APERATUR- Wait. I mean, ACME Gramophone Instructional Culture Adjustment Learning Centre - Thank you for activating me out of the smouldering rubble that once was the Ford Yackel Escape Pod B-9_ - _Authorizational Code is 238897645320 - Enjoy the varied and diverse learning opportunities that will be available to you for your free release of the product - let's have fun - special friend"_

(_What in the heck? A sophisticated piece of technology...)_

_FLIP_

_(Was housed underneath all of that rubble!) _

" - _Confirmed_," said the machine, that didn't wait for Wile to get over his shock. " - _please stand back to prevent any unwanted levels of highly toxic Gramophone relaxed radiation -" _Moment after this was said, the Gramophone suddenly _levitated _into the air and sprouted metal legs.

I repeat. The ancient relic of music listening levitated into air and sprouted four robot legs!

Then the Gramophone turned and started walking _away _from Wile, who's mind was just blown completely by all levels of absurdity. _Where is it going?_

Not sure why, but Wile started to follow the machine.

_So, it's a Gramophone, and it's also a wind-up machine_. _And I'm following it. That's clever._

So he thought, but as he started walking after the long-striding walking/talking contraption of insanity, he looked behind him to be once more reminded that he had nothing else. And in some twisted, unexplainable way, he was curious as where the Gramophone could possibly be headed on the barren planet.

Both the anorexic coyote and the huge machine had started walking across the desert. They were walking in an eastward direction, because the sun sank behind them, below the many giant mountainous landscapes of the huge and small.

_Plop, plop, plop, plop_, went the back paws. _Clang, clang _went the bones in his rough, angled body. They'd been walking for... 2 Hours it was by this point, and he was DEAD tired. And then he couldn't hold himself up anymore- DEAD hungry and dead tired...

_Well... technically I'm ALWAYS hungry. Which leads to the inquiry of why I'm still NOT dead... _He thought vacantly. But that didn't stop him from plummeting to the ground; weakly, he held up a sign that said,

(_Tired Now. CAN'T walk._)

The walking Gramophone kept going.

_This is stupid! If I lose that, I'm going to die out here in the desert! _So Wile, against his own judgement decided to keep walking after it.

Turns out it wasn't very far, for at last, a rock formation came into view. Another small compartment in the Gramophone's base box suddenly opened up and another long mechanical arm shot out, turning into a drill.

Wile held out a small sign to say, (_What the?_)

The box was using the drill, twice it's normal size, to plow its way through the wall, , scattering tons of rocks and debris in every direction. Wile felt lucky he didn't get hit. In less than a minute, the machine had a created a regular sized opening... and it was _still _drilling in. Weirder, but now Wile thought he saw a _second _drill pop up to life and do some secondary drilling behind the Gramophone cone, smoothing out the entrance carved into rock. That _had _to have been some precise cutting. The monstrosity turned a corner and disappeared. Wile followed in after it.

_If it's a futuristic machine, maybe I can get a meal out of it... _he thought voraciously; he was beginning to feel not as alone, and _it was _the future after all. Wile wasn't going to feel surprised if it sprouted a _tail. _

The machine echoed all the way DEEP in the new cavernous opening it made. The new path it forged went deep, and Wile didn't have to duck his head. _Where the heck is it going...? _He couldn't help but think; but this was easily overlapped with the other, more louder, _I. WANT. FOOD. HUNGRY. SO. VERY. HUNGRY!_

Far up ahead he could hear the Whir of the huge machine's Big drill suddenly die and cease, then the mechanical, high-pitched cheery voice said, " - _Procedure done - Housing has been made - Homeliness and furnishings is built to proper accommodations - "_

It was a wide, room, with a carpet, a lamp, a large desk, a couch, and a chalkboard that sat on the rocky wall. There were also 5 lit candles. barely lit so he could see anything. It was a small roomy living area that had all the furnishings of a home... but some of it seemed eerily familiar. Wile knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but that didn't stop his mouth dropping to the floor. Just for _once, _he wished that something about his whole miserably bizzare experience would look _normal_. And WHERE was the talking Gramophone?

_Hey! _

He saw it was sitting on top of the desk, sans legs, sans drills, and sans-God-knows-what-else-it-had-on-it. Wile approached the desk with caution. It looked positively _normal _sitting on the desk- like it _belonged _here. Wile wondered why it wasn't moving, then figured it out; the needle stopped spinning on the disk.

And so, standing against all the absurdity of the evening, he wound it up again. Then he left it alone as the needle ran along the disk.

" - _Welcome to the AGICALC, the ACME Gigantic Invention center all-learning coolness -_"

Wile was confused and pulled out a sign that read,

(_Um, Wasn't it Acme Gramophone Instructional_)

_FLIP_

(_Culture Adjustment Learning Centre?_)

It took well over a minute before the Gramophone creaked.

" - _Confirmed question - searching list of usable answers - one found - response selected - I am in automatic awareness of my previous statement -_"

_Huh? _Wile thought.

" - _Confirmed no response - commencing next mode of learning centre - _"

Wile hoped it was dinner, and eagerly pointed at his mouth.

" - _Sensing target owners eagerness - proactive answer is found - The Acme Gramophone Instructional Culture Adjustment Learning Centre does not come with the extra Acme Gramophone Instruction Culture Adjustment Learning Centre Complementary Comestible - _"

Wile stared at the snarky machine in disbelief; he'd seen this coming from far away. _A machine that can make a HOME out of a freaking mountain of stone but can't give me any food? Who's stupid invention is this? _Angry at this turn of events, Wile bared his sharp teeth and almost thought about taking out all his physical and emotion trauma in ripping the ridiculous, impossible contraption to shreds...

" - _Sensing target aggression - beginning defensive procedures -!" _

A giant boulder suddenly appeared over Wile's head. Then as pure reflex, he cowered underneath the boulder, expecting what was to come next. The boulder then fell atop him!

_WHAM!_

One of Wile's hands ended up squeezing out from underneath the giant rock and held up a tiny white sign that said,

(_Ouch._)

_FLIP_

(_But at least the hunger's gone._)

_FLIP_

(_I'm totally feeling great._)

_FLIP_

(_Good Night._)

Impossible as it was, Wile was dead tired. So he slept that night, with pain and all.

The machine was still running and then opened up 6 small compartments, 5 that sprouted 3 fingers each to spin around a rotator cup and act as fans that blew out all candles, while the sixth removed the needle from the record disk. Then the Gramophone stopped working for a while.

**Duck Dodgers: A Qwack in Time**


	4. Voice

- **the Next Morning**

Wile climbed out from under the rock that he'd been smashed under (?) with a big yawn, scratched his fanny and then planned on telling John not to bother sending him postcards from-

He froze as he remembered that there was no friends he knew of, and certainly not here. He was 3 centuries BEYOND anyone, and worse he was stuck on completely different planet, possibly in another galaxy far away from his own. He felt a little sad..

And last night, he didn't have the luxury of getting a home when a walking, talking Gramophone had the pleasure of forcibly carving into a mountain to _give _him one. And there was nothing to eat; but that hardly surprised Wile, who could handle any length of days without food.

But just as he started recalling all of this- the Gramophone suddenly sprang into life.

" - _Greetings hairy being furry mutt, and good morning - we will begin the mandatory Acme Gramophone Instructional Culture Adjustment Learning Centre training lessons to better yourself in the advancement of all things futurific - _"

Dully, Wile decided to pull out a medium sign that read,

(_That doesn't make any sense._)

_FLIP_

(_And "Futurific" isn't even a word._)

The machine fell silent, and the sound sputtering out the cone was, " - _Processing snappy response - Yo Mama isn't a word - _"

Great, it was a machine with a snarly sense of humor. Wile thought it couldn't get any better, then he held up another sign that read -

(_Well "Yo Mama" isn't a word either._)

_FLIP_

(_It's TWO words, genius_.)

" - _Sensing snarky commentary, processing next response -_"

the next response turned out to be a cattle prod that on contact, electrocuted the poor coyote till

_BOOM!_

the extra-cripsy coyote hit the floor with force and looked annoyed and bent out of shape. The Gramophone went on.

" - _Ending preliminary juvenile procedure of pointless taunts - We must now begin the lesson. Follow along with Preliminary exercise of vocal wordplay by repeating after said word - End instructions -_" The machine suddenly pulled out multiple electric candles that went on automatically.

_Huh? _Wile thought. _It wants me to speak? BUT..._

" - _Ahem - Repeat list of words - Apple_ - _repeat word _- "

Wile got back up and sat in the chair, then casually pulled out a sign that read, (_Apples_.)

" - _Detecting negative response in effect. Initiating reabilitation -_"

SHOCK!

_Again with the Cattle prod? Augh!_

" - _Repeat - say Apple - repeat word - _"

And Wile pulled out another sign that said (_Apples_.)

SHOCK!

_Again!_

" - _Repeat - say Apple - repeat word - _"

And Wile pulled out another sign that said (_Apples_.)

SHOCK!

PLOP!

" - _Analysis - You must have a head hard as rock -_"

To which Wile didn't respond, but ducked underneath the table like he was trying to get at something he saw. When he rose back up he held in his hand a block of wood. Then the Gramophone's response was a shocking twist of, " - _Re - Analysis - I retract previous entry to say your head's as hard as wood -" _

_- _**Desert**

Under some odd prodding, the Gramophone got him to go outside. It wasn't as scorching hot as the last day. The Gramophone followed.

" - _Now we're going to do some simplier word plaaaaaaaaaaaaaa... - _" the instrument suddenly trailed off and sputtered to a crawl. Wile instinctively went to the side and wound it up again, restarting it.

" - _... aaaaaaaaaaay. "The Desert is Hot" - repeat -_"

(_The Desert is hot_) replied the coyote via sign.

" - _incorrect - _"_Sand blows in wind_" -"

(_Sand blows in wind_) was written on the next one.

" - incorrect -" said the Gramophone.

Later they went back inside the cave again, and the Gramophone produced several strange-looking silver things. Gramophone discovered that Wile didn't know about any of them so it took him through the basics, by pointing to each tool with a small fibre-thin metallic finger.

" - _Fork - repeat_."

Then a sign, (_Fork_).

Agicalc pointed to the tool on the right.

" - _Spoon - repeat._"

Wile was having some kind of fun, and held up another sign for, (_Spoon_).

Then the next one over was a sharper instrument; it had only point and small little grooves all curving from one end to the base of the handle in a half-smile. " - _Knife_ - _repeat via words_ -"

Wile didn't know what to do so he held up another sign from behind with (_Knife_) written over it.

The Agicalc's cone enlarged, shuddered, but then settled, and said, "- _Analysis - Unable to compute signs -_ _or method of eating - _"

Two of its 6 metal arms retracted back into the box. Wile observed as it started to pull something out. Then it stopped suddenly so Wile once again jumped to the side the rewound the lever.

Wile's eyes widened at what he saw. Only he didn't know how to say locus, let alone, a _locus_. Wile took one long stare at both before sinking his sharp teeth right onto the Bug carcass. He gobbled it up in seconds, then licked his lips for a bit.

He NEEDED that.

" - _Analysis - Wow, your manners are terrible -_!"

Of Wile already knew that, not really remembering nothing in the area of things related to food other than _filling your belly_. Thus, Wile didn't know how to answer that other than a small white sign that read, (_Food is Food_), so Agicalc explained, " - _unable to compute level of progress - inquiry - why the usage of signs? - _"

Wile sought for an answer but found none. Now conversing with a strange machine in the shape of a Gramophone didn't seem so weird anymore.

He didn't what the big deal was; though that could have been because he'd never thought about it as deeply. He didn't possess the vocal chords to properly form anything. And talking was a waste of time if people wouldn't pay attention to what he said. Actions better defined themselves and the person doing it.

The thing with the signs he had no way of explaining also, it was a habit he'd done so well and so much, he never noticed.

But maybe he was over-thinking this; it was just a machine he was talking to... that found in the desert... and dumbly decided to activate. If he _didn't, _he'd have been still alone and sans the nice little hovel. So he decided to pull out a sign that said, (_Don't really know_)

The machine appeared to be about to say something but then the needle skipped off. So Wile rewound it.

" - ...aaaaaaaanalysis - _negative. All agicalc science improvement tests must be done to 100 percentage of being done - _"

Wile didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but now the machine opened up another slot and Wile had to stand back as the Gramophone shot out another monstrosity from open hole, with a strange dome shape and an attachment rod leading back from the top to the box hole. It was a chrome helmet.

" - _Processing - please put on helmet - what are you doing?_ -"

Wile had both jaws sank into it, but it was rough going since he could only _gnaw _on it. After seeing that he wasn't supposed to _eat _it, he stopped, and instead he grabbed it and put on top of his head, his ears sinking behind so they wouldn't be crushed. Well, he was still hungry.

" - _Processing - affirmative - this Agicalc additional instrument will give all owners of an Agicalc free range opportunity to stimulate their vocal chords and grant them a voice - _"

Wile's eyes bunted together with the sign that expressed a stunned, (_WHAT!_)

SHOCK!

Wile felt a nasty jolt into his body for a few seconds that was neither painful nor of pleasure - all he knew was that he could feel soemthing like a feather tickling the inside of his neck, some area of his brain.

_No... stop, please... _

" - _Opening voice palettes, please select a voice_ - _voice will be permanent and given to you for keeps - _"

_Select a voice? You're not even giving me a choice! _

Whether or not the thing was reading his mind seemed to not matter where in a few minutes, Wile felt weird. Then he saw a large green _brightness _in the shape of a square float in front of him. The screen had bizarre things on it; Wile was not as surprised; he remembered reading things about Holographic screens in science fiction as a child.

_I seem to be remembering things at a slow pace, _he thought to himself.

The "Screen" had a two triangles, one pointing left, one right, and a work in the middle that had a... _color bar_. The bar was a saturated red color. Wile reached up and pressed it, and it was _easy_; he almost thought for a second that unlike what he as a child _read_, his hand might have just accidentally slipped right on through. Here it was solid. the moment he pressed it, it was like a bubbling caudron in his stomach culminated into a readied burst, and he _burst out yelling:_

"AN APPL' a day, _Kips da DOCTA' AWAY!"_

Wile covered his mouth in shock, and squealed; the voice that escaped was _his _own, but it didn't sound like his own voice. But he put two and two together - it was just a _sample _of what he could have if he wanted; though it was forced. It was more like someone was playing him like a harmonica, blowing into his sound chamber and forcing the notes to exist. That was how it felt, and he was more or less still the same _mute _individual who was now playing backseat to just _hearing _the selections. Anyway, one of those samples was that of a an _extremely _gruff, trendy Brookylnese tone.

Just _terrible_. He didn't like it one bit.

Wile didn't wait another second and pressed against the button reading "_right_". The color bar changed to _blue_, and he pressed this to get:

"An AHH-pel away, keeps the DOOCT-tor away!" said the helmet. Wile's lips were just being forced to match up in sound synchronization. This voice was different from the first one, he decided. it was placing loads of _heavy emphasis _on first word prefixes; but that was just what Wile began to understand the longer he wore the helmet. Either way, something sounded _off_ about the voice. So he pressed the _"next" _button, and the blue switched to a highlighted "green" which he pressed. This time it was:

"Gaga gogo gaga peepee~"

_That _sound had all the loquaciousness and sophistication of 2-year old asking for a bottle of milk. This even triggered the thought: _Why do I suddenly feel like I want to ride in a baby carriage! MOMMY...!_

_Ugh! _Wile sorely shook away the inane train of thought and moved to the next slot before it took a dive into stupid.

The next palette was a bright, sunny _yellow_, so Wile wanted to hear what it sounded like:

"Like, An apple a day keeps the doctor away, like totally," said Wile, who was disgusted and practically gagged in only the first few seconds. Not only did he feel _queasy _(Eating that bug carcass, no matter where it came from had nothing to do with it), but what he heard was a GIRL'S voice. He would've let out an annoyed _groan_, but decided against it; he couldn't stand the idea of doing it with a _girl's _voice. _Next, _he thought, rolling his eyes.

The next palette was a deep seated purple. When he pressed it what came out of his mouth was this:

"_An apple a day keeps the doctor away - and if it doesn't I'm gonna just do what I always do when I have an emotional problem I'm trying to avoid dealing with: it's MURDERING time!_"

It had a vaguely non-chalant, obfuscating stupidity mixed in, and was psychotic. Wile blinked twice before moving on to the next one. He had nothing to _think _about that. The next one was a cheery orange, and unlike the last two ones, it didn't leave a bad taste in his mouth:

"Dear _santa, please leave me an apple and two mallets this year- I've been A REALLY, REALLY good boy this year, and I don't like visiting the doctor, really! Except for the really nice Lady NURSES! Helloooooooooooo, NURSE!_"

The tone was nice, just... a bit too comedic and covering a wide variety of bizzareness he'd had a feeling he didn't want to know about... and some thinly veiled _lampshading _best left unknown. He went to the next one.

This one was a softer, airy blue palette and then he pressed on it for "Play".

Wile wrestled with his own mouth, but sure enough the voice came out as,

"I SAY, _old bean_, is it a matter of simple debate on the eccentricities and over-complications of said topic to crumple together the sheer complexities of know for certain of some things might be able to keep said Medical expert, let alone fruit. For in order to gain certain _leverage _over the experts in their said field is impromptu, nay, important, to engage in the lifelong, everyday process of healthy indulgences of the body's essential nutrients. Though scientifically speaking, there is not a _whole _lot of guarantee that will be the case when warding off "Said" doctorates."

The predator animal fell silent after the epic paragraph. He looked like someone had cast a spell over him, and he was reeling in the bitter aftermath of losing the enchanted feeling that came with the spell.

He stared into the space across from him, a little stunned and at a loss for any words, but the aftershook didn't leave him feeling cross like the _other _voice samples... No, this voice, even though it was possibly fabricated and somebody else's felt sort of... right in him. Like he was _meant _to have such a voice. It was flighty-sounding. Elegant. Arrogant. Actually _all-knowing _and capable, even though didn't actually sound all capable. It was actually mildly intimidating, calculated, and matter-of-factly, _no nonsense_; like someone coming home after a day's ordeals and tossing away the old coat to relax and drink in the silence and whittle away the hours by contemplating the world and all its untapped psychological glory...

He smiled.

He turned to the computer and then pointed at the monitor.

(_I'll take this_) said the coyote. He was now very eager, like a fat kid picking his favourite candy.

The Gramophone didn't say anything until finally the voice from the record needle said,

" - _Confirmed. Cutting to Procedures 8 - 9 for mildly painful transfer of voice. Please be noted that though you will automatically be granted all rights to hold onto this voice, your language area development will be an independant matter - your primary development senses will start over to a level similar as that of an infant - also, the Agicalc would like to stress again that the pain will be MILD - _"

Wile blinked, trying to understand, and then he thought, _The pain will be WHAT now- _

he didn't finish as the helmet, still attached to the machine, suddenly clamped onto his head. Already Wile had a sinking feeling in his gut that it wouldn't end _too _well.

_Uh-oh_.

ZZZZAAAAP!

ZAP ZAP

FIZZLE FIZZLE

_fiizzzzzzle_

_ssssss_

Where once was Wile sitting in the chair there was really a smoking heap of coughing _fur _and skinny bones. In this sense, Wile and Electricity were linearly dangerous friends!

"... *COUGH*," wheezed the infuriated skinny mammal.

" - _Process complete - _" said the Agicalc. " - _NOW we ca- ca- ca- ca- ca- caaaaaaaa..._"

As usual, The Gramophone stop so Wile raised a smoking skinny arm out to rewind the lever and then set the needle back on.

"... _aaaaaAAN begin your real Agicalc training procedure starting with the Agicalc Vernacular Refreshment Course For Dumb or Ignorant Mammals. Be advised that knowledge of the language has endowed you with a few added extras in order to professionally blend in with other organic beings - _"

Wile got angry, and wanted _nothing _more than to give that machine the worst set of insults he could think of _now _that he had supposedly been given a tongue with which to speak, but there 3 problems that reached his attention - and SHOCKED him in a matter of seconds. The first was that he didn't _feel _like he was supposed to feel different; what happened? And second... This revelation made him recall what the machine said earlier about his development in language skills being the same as a baby learning to talk: and it wasn't _kidding_. His vocal chords felt small when he touched the spot they'd have been in the neck; weird as it was, he could tell the machine was _no _liar, and probably _learning _to talk at the same progress as a kid to an adult was par for the course. The machine was... really advanced. (But though... _Wile had no idea how old he actually was, but he seemed to know and remember as much from the 3 centuries previous_)

Any sound that came out Wile's mouth, he discovered, would've been incoherent babbling, _gibberish_ and... for the record, he was dealing with doubtless an AI, the kind that had to be wound up _because _it was a Gramophone, and whose metaphorical finger _he _was wrapped around. So he said nothing.

The last, and heaviest SHOCK, whose than when the helmet _zapped _him, came in two phases: in the first, Wile was still confused, trying to figure out what the Agicalc _meant _exactly by that bit about "Endowment" and "Few Added Extras" and how that was supposed to fit him in with organic beings, even Wile was basically the only thing "living" on the planet.

_Hmm?_

At first Wile thought he'd seen a spitting image of himself, that moved at the same time, opened and closed its' mouth as _he _did. But that couldn't be possible; and just as he started getting panicky thoughts, he finally remembered that he was staring at his own reflection, and only mirrors can create a reflection. It was a mirror... so he got to take a look at it.

At first, being surprised, he remembered that the Gramphone probably had something to do with it, the mirror might have been placed there and he wasn't aware of it.

The mirror was pristine, clean and sharp. He could really swear that he saw an exact clone of himself! But _that _was just as scary. He looked up and down: he smiled at what he saw. His ego swelled: he did really appreciate his natural physique, and the mirror was a doubled exemplification of that... but that made it even scarier... almost as scary as what he could see when he stared below and at the area between the _legs... _

He froze. His eyes bunched together like puddy, and one of them had a red ring around it.

- **Meanwhile, just outside the Mountain home**

Outside, a scream from under the mountain could have been heard. Actually loud enough to shatter a whole line of mirrors.

"...**!**"

- **Back inside**

Wile ran over to the machine that continued to sit casually on the table. Now he was baring his fangs with serious rage.

"- _Agicalc senses hostility - and extreme embarrassment _- _query is in order_"

He still had the ability to use signs, so the traumatized coyote held one out - his paw was trembling - and it said,

(_What DID YOU DO TO ME!_)

" - _Agicalc was only preparing subject for what was to come - and also initiating first step of future adjustment - subject is now no longer mere animal, and will function like a human being_ - _Agicalc decided this would be fitting - _"

Wile couldn't handle it any more and _fainted_.

About 2 hours later, Wile woke up and decided that the whole thing was a dream... till he saw it on the table and thought, _Oh_.

Now Wile's anger tripled, and his cheeks were burning red, because he felt humiliated and just... freakishly exposed. (_YOU can't do this to me!_ _I've a right to privacy!_) FLIP (_Why change my physical appearance!_) _What, have I become somebody's dress up doll or something stupid? _(it, _I mean, carrying this between them feels awkward!_)

There was no answer, so Wile shook the machine in a fit of rage. (_HEY! ANSWER me!_) _Oh wait. _he rewound it up.

Wile's next sign was (_I FEEL EXPOSED! DO SOMETHING YOU CRAZY_)

_FLIP_

(_... MACHINE!_)

Even Wile had to admit that using signs tended to lose all its intensity when overextending their dialogue.

(_... just please. I really DO feel like a freak here._..)

Instead of an answer, the machine suddenly opened up and outstretched one of it's long metallic fibre arms to suddenly snatch up the hapless coyote and then place him right back in front of the mirror, and then in a flash the machine amalgamated itself into a ring around Wile's head, and a curtain formed.

Now more than a handful of noises started to erupt from the coyote's quivering mouth in a nasty haze of confusion. "OOF! OUCH! OOH! OOOH! WOOOH!"

The curtain then drew back. Wile didn't feel any beter to see that he had some kind of fabric around the waist. _White_ fabric.

" - _Agicalc analysis statement of approval - Wala _- "

Now it went from traumatizing to just plain stupid. Wile held out another sign that read, (_HOW is this any better?_)

" - _Agicalc analysis - looking for advancing statement - you will no longer be exposed - now it is time for eating _- "

(_What! NOW! After what you DID!_)

Agicalc wasn't paying attention. The slot in front of his box opened up and produced _another _dead locust. Being angry beyond all reason, but not having the vocal mastery to act on it, strained the sensitive chasm in Wile's mind. So he gave up. Being angry was one thing, being humiliated and feeling weird afterward was another, but hunger pulled his strings like a puppet.

The food was gobbled down in less than a second, leaving him less than... upset with what happened before; everything kept happening too fast for him to take in properly, and nothing good came of it either. And now that he sported a much more... "Visible" version of it, it was unlikely that anything that came after this would feel _normal_.

" - _Excellent, subject has finished lunch - the lesson can finally begin_ - First exercise - _repeat word after it is said - now first word: sound - repeat_ -"

Wile fell silent, brooding over his irreversible predicament.

"Please repeat word - "

the machine was probably going to keep on pestering him, he knew, for sure.

"Please repeat word - "

Wile got sick of the machine, but couldn't do anything about it. Call him crazy, but he felt indebted to it, since _it _was still the reason he now had a small for a home; and he was afraid _it _might do something worse than... before.

"Please repeat word -"

Wile shuddered and his mouth started twisting up. "..."

"Please repeat word -" insisted the upbeat, computerized Ai voice in the gramophone.

"...s..."

"_Please repeat word _-"

"...Sssss..." Wile struggled incredibly hard to sound out.

"_Please repeat word _-"

Wile was now getting sick of the Gramophone repeating the same phrase. He just wanted to make. _IT. STOP. _

"SSsso..Ssss...so-... soun...duh... sounnn...d... ssssound. Sound."

It was like he just lifted a heavy weight over his throat. He almost fell over in exhaustion. Again, there was the fact that... his "crown jewels" were enlarged to deal with, staring up back at him through the white leather, foreign, ugly and unbelievably creepy.

"Sound," he said all by himself. "_Sound_,_" _said he, this time a little louder. "SOUND," he said, suddenly forgetting everything _else_ - he could fully hear the sound of his own voice, with his very acute, hairy ears. "_Soooooouuund_," he said excitedly, stretching the word out longer to get a better hearing of his own voice in the semi-lit room. _That's my voice. That's MY voice... _

"Sound," he said at long last, like a child finding its footing. He grinned. Again, whatever upsetting, displeasing feeling there was had gone.

" _Excellent_ -_You've passed the first exercise_ _and are beginning to master your sound- I will now play festive fanfare- _" to Wile's dull surprise, the needle started skipping off so he rewound the thing. The machine started up again, this time actually playing a festive-sounding _victory _fanfare that was a little creepy. "- _if I were any other program, I'd offer you cake while vaguely concealing from you the obvious fact that I was only deliberately making you go though a bunch of inane physical ordeals to set you for an ill-fated attempt at dumping you in a 400* degree oven - _"

Wile stared blankly at the machine, which also fell silent. The air got freakishly awkward. Instead of pushing his new voice any further he went back to signs briefly to say,

(_What... was that all about?_)

But instead of answering that, another of the mechanical arms suddenly caused a... boulder to appear in midair! Again, one of Wile's signs read,

(_Oh... Perfect_.)

_WHAM_

" - _Ceasing Program - Pleasant evening - till the next lesson - terminating -_"

The electric candles all went off, and Wile decided to just go ahead and get some rest, sleeping off the first in a long hard line of days to endure. This time it was much easier because the rock wasn't as heavy.

_If I could, I probably would be screaming in agony because the ROCK IS JUST SO HEAVY. _

_Eh, Forget it. I'm too tired and just confused._

_I could really use the rest... _


	5. Discovery

**2 months later**

- " - Okay furry muff, _What is the sum of 2 + 4 and the what would the product be when you multiply that sum by 2 multiplied by itself 3 times over? -_"

Wile, now 2 months and still in underwear, calmly explained, " 8 and 106. Of course."

" Define the quotient -"

Wile, rubbed his hand against his chest and said, "10 - 8 will leave 2, which is then brought down along with the 6 to make 26. Times 3 will cause 24 to be subtracted from 26 and leave the remainder as 2."

" - _Very good _- _define (3i + 1) - (5 + 2i) _"

"You multiply the i and three. It will get copied along, and then that answer will be "I". 3i will be the answer for the one that follows, then 3 x i + 1. Next i x 2, where you get "i" as the answer; 2i will then become the deciding factor and 5 + 2 x i evaluates to 5 + 2i. Subtract the polynomals 3i + 1 and 5 + 2i on terms in one polynomial with any like terms in the other polynomial," he proudly explained.

" - _Excellent_... - "

" - What is 20 divided in itself? -"

Wile gave it some thought. His brain was now quickly thinking on a higher speed of processing, and information gathering.

"That would be easy - _20 by _itself is zero."

" - _Well done. Success! _- _Now explain dividing zero -" _

"Well you can divide zero, but the answer is always zero."

" - _Very good - explain 20 by zero_ - "

"That's different. No other number than zero can be divided by zero."

" - _Able to compute _... _touché - _"

For the first time in a long time Wile let out a very casual, natural-sounding laugh.

- **2 Years Later**

Wile was standing out in the desert with the Gramophone, and like most days, he could feel the incredible humidity. The Gramophone's appearance changed drastically well over two years - The thing must have been secretly sneaking out to collect materials from _somewhere _and _improving itself_, cause IT was now sporting _the _most bizzare-looking aperture on his bottom base that looked like _freaking giant silver wing_. Oh yeah, and now the Gramophone had a wide floating metal ring around it's main body, with a disconnected metal arm that floated out of reach.

" - _Agicalc program will now begin next step. Engineering_ - _create a trap is your first exercise_ - "

Wile asked, "I beg your pardon, but I sort of lack the mater..."

Wile had only a few seconds to look up before...

_CRASH!_

Of course.

Anyways, Wile clammered out of the pile and threw himself into his work for the next hour. The Gramophone oversaw all of it.

In an Hour the Gramophone said, " - _Cease lesson - that will be enough - please present _- "

Wile assumed a dignified stance (It was easier. much easier. Because 2 years ago, Wile felt a lot less than prideful given how everday he felt exposed and equally humiliated now that he was in underwear!) then explained -

"Ah, a good question you pose! This is a machine of woodwork that will allow me to fetch water without looking for it. Observe," he said, picking up a huge stick that had rocks tied around the base. Wile started wiggling it in front of the sand in front of him, but all that accomplished was reaching a small rock that balanced in front of him, with a much _bigger _rock on top.

" - _You have failed lesson -_"

"IMPOSSIBLE!" roared the angry jackal. Except now that he was waving the stick around. "It's just faulty! I can FIX it!"

Except that Wile accidentally hit the small rock that then crashed down on him with a THUD!

"...mmm!... ouch," muttered the sad jackal.

- **The Following Day**

Wile was testing out another interesting contraption. In those days he was getting more advanced, to equally par with his steady day-to-day broadening of his vocabulary.

This contraption was set high on a cliff. It was very high and he could feel the full brunt of the hot wind. The Agicalc allowed him that day to freely do as he wished - for testing purposes, of course.

The contraption was a large bow made entirely of stone, and at each corner on the arc ends were hooks... string was tied onto the hooks and then Wile came up with the genius idea to use the exploding powder that Agicalc provided - on the arrows!

" - _What is this, exactly? -_ " asked the machine floating up.

"Grand question. If I'm hunting, I will seize first opportunity for an effective capture by... BLOWING the enemy to pieces!" Wile didn't notice how psychotic he sounded. But he presented the arrows, covered in a strange sticky substance and then coated with black powder. "The HEAT will then build up the Friction and cause the arrows to explode when they hit the ENEMY!"

" - _Processing analysis - that's not even going to work - _"

Wile wasn't even paying attention, and set up the bows on the thinly defined string; Then he pulled it back, assumed a very dashing pose and let loose the 4 arrows as the string went _TWANG!_

At that moment that wind definitely picked up; and just as Wile predicted it would, the Arrows, flying against the wind, suddenly started to come aflame. "Yes, YES!" he yelled excitedly.

But now the worst occured; the wind picked up higher and suddenly caused all 4 arrows to bent sent flying back. All four; aflame; and going closer to the spot where Wile was...

" - _Processing mode of action - Gettin' the heck out of here before IT hits the fan - _"

And then it floated out of range, which Wile couldn't do, who let out a frightened and meakly, "_Oh..._"

BOOM!

A few minutes later the grey, horribly injuried coyote raised another sign for, (_I'm starting to hate Hindsight_ )

- **3 years later **

The machine had somehow evolved; Becoming a thing that floated briefly above the floor with a bizarre projection on its' small bottom, the floating ring around the Cone, and _now _two disconnected metal arms like wings.

Wile never questioned it because, he hated reminding himself, that he was dealing with futuristic technology; and he'd become both its' student and plaything. But its' obvious tendency to just _evolve _over the time he spent with it, bothered the long-eared _jackal_ like an itch. But as smart he was getting, and the long nights he spent, whether on the floor, or on the _couch_, _thinking_ about it and creating wells of overcomplicated equations in his head to define in his own mind what it was, was useless.

Not entirely.

**Last Year**

It happened the previous year; something on accident that Wile E. Coyote would never have known- one day, while building a small-scale set that made 2 lightbulbs glow by setting up a parallel circuit, he flipped the switch and sent one line electricity to both. Then he turned one segment off to send that line to the other.

It was a simple exercise, and it was his first experiment while using copper. But he questioned why it was that parallel circuit couldn't act the same as a _series _circuit - and wondered why it couldn't be both. Thus both would be lit. So he strained to think of a way.

That didn't work out and he spent hours wondering what he was thinking about, numbingly gnawing on a fork he plucked. He also had a pencil and paper to take notes, even though his intake of information had lately been been on a nonstop rapid climb. (Naturally he didn't have anywhere other than the underwear to stick it)

he kept tapping the feeble set with the fork, one bulb lit and other not. But as he did, the metal fell on the path of the electricity to the lit bulb.

The bulb went off.

_Hmm? _It's gone. Wile stared at the machine, then at the circuit:

The line was still going to it, but where'd the charge gone?

"I-Impossible...!"

He could _see _the charge on the board, the horizontal range that was about to make the turn to reach the copper coil inside the bulb. But it wasn't moving... then it slowly started to go back, and gradually it got faster and faster, and then he couldn't see it anymore.

"What... _was _that?" It slowed down. The current just stopped, then he started moving...

- **Present**

"... And that is to conclude that why the sudden necessity for Occam's Razor was applied in the field of hyper-hygenics, according to Professor Doctor I- Eelzepeopul". Thank you."

Another corny fanfare came from the machine's cone, followed by, " - _You've passed today's necessary lesson program - please feel free to have some free cake -_"

Wile lowered his eye lids... "You already made that reference last time."

" - _Processing hasty and desperate response - Nuh-uh_. _We can use it, they do not own it For they, who is we are the only thing standing between US AND THEM -_"

"You DID it again," he coughed angrily.

" - _Oh come on! - _" the gramophone snapped with a nastily cheery tone. " - _We're the only living things on planet - no one will know_ - "

"EXCEPT the reader..." said Wile in a low voice.

"- _What!_ -"

"I mean it's time for me... to eater! Yeah, that's what I mean."

The machine floated _next _to the table now- because of its size - and the proceded to produce another crunchy locus, which Wile didn't gobble up this time. Instead, a plate was presented and he had his fork and knife ready.

" - _enjoy meal _- _furry mutt - _" said the machine before shutting down.

As it did, Wile couldn't have cared less. But then one of the Locus's legs twitched. At this a surprised Wile gawked and then proceded to gawk; it was STILL alive. The golden embryonic carcass flipped over on it's belly and the thing's nasty mouth opened to reveal a very dangerous set of _teeth. Sharp _enough to cut through anything. Then it let out a terrifying shriek before charging at Wile, now cringing, and yelling in his head, _NO! STOP!_

The monster leaped forward, but nothing happened. Wile peaked open one eye and saw that defying impossibility, the monster was literally _frozen _in the air.

"What the devil...!" he whimpered. He got up; this couldn't have been possible. The thing remained frozen in the air and Wile didn't dare touch it.

_Huh. _That was all he could think of, since that was the only portion of the situation that he could properly grasp. Then as he sat back down again, his instincts started kicking in; he was hungry, and this _thing _was food, but not if it wasn't _dead_. So he took advantage of the opportunity and first shoved the knife into the bug. the hard skin made a crackling sound but Wile didn't care. He began to eat the thing, ignoring the head.

Satisfied in his hunger Wile wondered what he could've done with the still floating head, decided to just grab it out of place... though that wasn't what he did at first. Instead, he stupidly thought that it'd be better if he just left it there, but then he'd have to wake up in the morning to SEE it, he couldn't handle the thought!

But as he wondered wildly, his frame _stiffened._ In his mind's eye he had perfect clarity of an imagination where he saw himself eating the head anyway and spitting out the teeth.

_I don't get it. What am I seeing? _

Not knowing what it meant made it more confusing, till Wile gave up and decided to eat it. And just like in that vision he had, he spit out the teeth of the bug.

"PFFT! Yuck!" he burst out screaming. Now no amount of sleep would push that out of his memory... But he put it out of his mind for just that one moment as his eyes closed.

**8 months later**

Wile thought the year couldn't get any more exciting; or maybe that was just the, as he so personally put, "The kid" aftereffect, working itself out from learning so much, and not just in the area of language.

Language, vocabulary, woodwork... the machine ministered to him about things like repairing tools and tools to use for repairing, and now he'd grown to love them much like a teddy bear he'd hold in the evening hours. His inventing abilities even soared. The machine was starting to provide more, but it wasn't self improving itself or anything.

In those months Wile learned about astronomy and reading stars to the practice of causing a hot, bursting thing called "Fire". And _fire_, he discovered, could act like a fuel. One such night, this bright thing called fire was at the foot of his being while he saw with arms folded back and staring up at the dark emptiness of space.

He never appreciated it because the last time he'd ever traveled in it was haphazardly, frought with danger, and at that time, he was escaping from the Earth didn't recognize anymore. And he didn't remember anything before _stasis_, though some of those memories, particulary those of his childhood, were coming back in random places...

But he didn't feel sad about the memory loss - maybe... if he went _back _there to that blue planet, to where he might have been actually born, he might just remember...

Wile thought that all sounded silly. _But... _he thought to himself. _But still... it's my reason. And no one's around to criticize it; Maybe wherever I was is all changed, like Earth that I'd seen. Earth and it's big and scary cities and floating cars! Will I even find it if I go? _

He scoffed and then without realizing it he started talking out loud.

"_Of course... _after all, _I'm _a genius. I'm fast-learning, and I'm practically able to support myself. I've the experience of 3 wise men. If I went, no one would stop me; and I can even make FIRE!"

So under the stars a yawning jackal decided that he would go back there, and find home. _After_ he'd learned everything he was going to about galaxies and things like travelling and technology, of _course_...

But he'd still have a lot to _learn_. And he was in underwear, which made the thought sound only a smidgen less noble than it ought to have been.

- **1 month later**

Something weird happened to Wile at the end of the new month. It happened during one of his "Inventive" sessions.

His latest progress earned him the materials to construct a large machine that focused a series of seismic waves around one area of land like a ray, caused seismic instability, and all in a 3 mile radius of the selected area. There was no purpose, and no gain from it, only testing and receiving approval from the Agicalc.

the machine itself was a _complicated, _small console that he could operate easily via remote control. The box was the same size as a boulder. jutting out from it was a refined steel arm with a cone-shaped protrusion at the top.

The Agicalc was also there overseeing all the actions. " - _Analysis - _you've really improved for _engineering - I will make your party for ca-_"

Before it could finish, the Coyote suddenly burst out screaming, "If you MAKE one _more absurd inference _to that _stupid game, _I will _tear_ _out your OS and hook you up to a Toaster_!"

The snarl that went into the tone made the machine shirk off in embarrassment. " - _Agicalc is ashamed - but not daunted -_"

Now the time for the test was this moment. "_Here goes_," he said, pressing the button on the controller.

_The machine_, he thought to himself_, has only been set to allow for causing something to crack. As for undoing it... eh, I'm sure that it'll work out. No one can say I DIDN'T think ahead!_

The ray was a spiralling yellow-purplish light that shot out like the suns rays over the giant mountain, about 3 miles from where Wile was. The beam dispersed and made a terrible, eerie sound as it hit the mountain. _So far so good... now what happens next...? _

"..." he felt _cold all of a sudden! _His body was now shaking all over. "... _This is scary... _"

His mind's eye could see the mountain exploding, but he tried his hardest not to pay attention to _that_- and the cold sensation disappeared.

The mountain didn't do anything, but then that entire area started to rumble. _Yes! _he thought with a snarky devilish glee; _It's working!_

for about 20 seconds it was. Then the mountain's base started to crack, and then the crack ran along the whole of the precipice, like an ugly, horrid stain along a strip of table cloth.

The mountain groaned, and Wile to his horror saw what happened in a matter seconds: the two atoms that the machine was using _were _definitely working to split something apart and create a _distortion_. This happened because there was a greater absence in neutrally charged atoms and more positively charged ones... this was the driving force, but now _that _was experiencing backlash because of the unequal amounts of protons to the electrons, was why the rocks were now crippled into the shards of nasty little bits... that were blown in almost every direction and sent flying through the air.

In wake of this discovery Wile's face cracked into that of an "oops".

The rock shards were flung by the sheer force. The machine miscaculated... or did _he_? Either way, the shards, deadly sharp were headed right for him. Coming in _fast_; he jumped right as one of the shards, much bigger than what he expected, shot at the spot he was standing at before.

_IT'S GONE HAYWIRE! _he screamed in his head.

More shards came down, and he barely averted most- More came dangerously close, while he saw the Agicalc out of the corner of his eye suddenly vanish out of range and reappear further away.

_Why do bad things happen to me? It's almost like this universe is out to make me its butt monkey! I'm sick of it! _

He _was _getting sick of it. And he just wanted it to stop. Yeah, he really did just want it all to _stop_.

More explosions were happening all around him, making him panic and feel overwhelmed; and one of the rock shards was coming in TOO close. In a matter of seconds, he'd have been skewered...

"I know I didn't foresee any of this happening, but I REALLY want _all of this_," he started to yell out loud, tripping and falling on his knees, and the rock about to hit... his mind felt like it was about to _be fried _and put on a platter. Veins popped through his eye sockets. "To just STOP!"

_ZOOM_

Wile closed his eyes and awaited the skewering, but when he felt absolutely nothing or hear the sound of rocks falling down like missles, he cracked open one lid, shivering.

His ears didn't pick up _any _sounds... it was eerily _quiet_. He didn't know what happened till he looked behind him, and his eyes bulged open.

The rock was still coming for him! He'd have run right on the spot, but he noticed also in the corner of his eye something even stranger; his machine, which was thoroughly _destroyed_.

He ran out from under the giant shard still in the air, and got away to a very _safe _distance- that was where _no _explosions were occurring and he was a safe distance from the machine. His machine, he could see was destroyed, and the space around it felt different. It was completely destroyed.

It certainly looked that way, because 2 shards of rock crippled the arm and the motor. He could clearly see the shattered control panel and the broken, snapped electrical wires _beneath_. ALL of that was gone, but he could see still there, in the process of _being _destroyed, and the other explosions around him, all of them in the process of happening but not really happening in the least, like _he _was standing outside his normal range of time!

Then it hit him all at once: that incident with the parallel circuit, the delayed bug that he _ate _in midair allowing him to restrain that thing, and before any of _those _happened, he was forced into a state of panic or stress, all from anything that one way or the other, had become dynamic as he went on.

Time froze around him. He halted the rocks by causing the time around his own space to be frozen!

_But that's... absurd! _

This revelation didn't last. In a matter of minutes, the rock that was about to hit him fell right on the on spot where he had been standing only seconds ago. the sharp debris created _more debris _that flew in several other directions. The machine's explosion was loud and disastrous, but Wile was a safe distance from either, and fell to his knees in amazement as he stared on.

But the when it all finally ended, Wile tried standing up.

He couldn't stop _shaking_; A few moments ago he would've been killed instantly. But by sheer force of _will _he literally _delayed the moment of his own imminent death. _

" - _Test has been failed - _"

"Huh!"

The Agicalc was standing behind him.

" - _However, the machine's specifications show that you've successfully mastered a greater portion of engineering - You've passed the first course - well done - well, except for the failure - furry mutt - _"

The machine flew away back to the cave, while Wile stood there speechless, and wondering.

Wondering if the floating Gramophone had actually been frozen by the time as _well_, or if it was _actively _aware that Wile was controlling it.

He didn't know if this power was bad, but if he _knew _he had it, it was scary. He was wondering if somehow he could _learn to _control it. Not by random emotional bursts or anything so ridiculous, but through absolute will.

- **2 Weeks Later**

Wile showed no signs of slowing down in his learning progress, all of which was a review and study of things he'd learned previously. The Agicalc watched him carefully, and was no more or no less in its' generic, suspiciously cheery tone as it instructed the knowledge hungry coyote in only the intended basics of the past 3 Centuries. It processed carefully that Wile was a steady learner, quick, and while a little on edge because it was all forced and he was really terrified, was _determined_. Wile was up on his history, his sciences, and diction, and more than that, his engineering.

But Wile didn't know anything about how to make his latent "Time controlling" ability work on thought. Nor did know if the Agicalc knew or didn't.

But this severe lack of knowledge in those areas was _greatly _compensated for when the Agicalc had at long last begun the "Interstellar Travel Independent Study Course." Wile felt the same as a kid would've felt if he'd woken up and it was his birthday, or _better_ if it was Christmas and he was about to unwrap his present.

The Agicalc started with its' basic history: Wile absorbed each and everything lesson on the holographs the Gramophone presented the same as if he were a _sponge_.

First, it started out with History, which yet again, explored the 1900's "President Kennedy's" inauguration and the preliminary start of the "Moon landing".

(Though he had to admit later that there were so many illogical fallacies with said event, and later with Kennedy's assassination, the conspiracies that followed, and even its' legitimacy remained to be in question.)

Then everything else covered only major points in history that saw the creation of the "Warp Engines", and the "Gravity Drives" and "Gravity Manipulation" and past _that_ History saw the Anarchist Revolution, and 50 years down _that _line saw the end of one species (The Agicalc didn't specify) and the discovery of another.

The Twenty-Third Century saw the "On-off Treaty" of peace between Mars and Earth, with Mars becoming a _semi-_tyrannical Dictatorship. the twenty-third century also saw some bizzare new fashion-related renaissance and... the creation of the Protectorate, the enforcers of justice throughout most of the planets located in and out of the Solar System. To his shock, the _Protectorate _were the same group that housed the Cryostasis Laboratory where he was at. But the computer wouldn't reveal any more information about it... both because there was _"Wall" _it kept mentioning that kept _it _from prying any more, and it was top secret.

The only other thing that the computer mentioned in-between was that Earth was caught in the middle of an _energy crisis_.

This left Wile in a half-empty gaze, and infuriated. And so that day, Wile had a leftover _loathing_ for the _thing, _the _body _that the Agicalc designated the "Protectorate".

Wile had _no _idea about that; but when the Gramophone reached the subject of _Martians_, Wile suffered headaches and he thought he remembered _seeing something... or someone _similar to the way _these _Martians were described in physical appearance.

But he put it all past him. His engineering skills kicked into overdrive now that was learning more in detail about this technology, stuff that the age he barely remembered coming _from _would've sounded utterly impossible.

One day though, while working on the designs for something he had in mind (The agicalc had an off day) He really _couldn't _take it anymore.

"_... I really can't _keep working like this," he said.

the Agicalc, now sporting "Two" legs and even fully developed metallic hands floated over. " - Processing inquiry - _What now? - _"

"Working," he started out, "In a pair of underwear."

" - _What? - _"

"The _"Endowment_", I can handle, the _underwear_, _fine. Your day to day rude comment _and me being a _furry mutt_. But this ISN'T proper clothing! I'm _not _going to go another _day _without pan- _trousers!_"

" - _Unfortunately this program does not come with an Agicalc designer deluxe -_"

"Who said I would ask for your help?" Wile was even listening, and set aside his previous plans on the table and started drawing in a bunch of rough sketches in loose strokes.

**8 weeks later**

Wile's vow of "not going another day without any trousers" extended over weeks. But he was _persistent_ to make the impossible happen, while the Agicalc decided that it'd be in its' best interest to watch and see if the "furry Mutts" technical prowess would ascend its' precaculated expectation.

Wile had no idea what he was sketching, or what he started to build using the refined elements he'd been provided and saving over the number of weeks. But so very often he asked to look at the Gramophone's specifications and holographic schematics, and the Agicalc complied. Whatever the mutt planned, it certainly had nothing to do with _destroying _it.

**1 more week after**

Wile finished and ended his "pet project" in matter of hours.

The next night saw the scraggly mutt welding together a cone for a satellite dish, and that was when Wile climbed to the top of mountain housing the cave.

He took much greater advantage of his surroundings and begin a new project that ended with two platforms being built into the rocky clifface.

The Agicalc couldn't comprehend: this coyote had done so many days without food, and only ate when it was necessary.

Before long, Wile found out how to replicate the technology that generated holograms, while the Agicalc observed. This manifested into tracking down a stray "Advertising" signal he was picking up, using the primitive keyboard he built years earlier. It was _on _one of those days that the Agicalc floated over and explained-

" - _Mutt, you can consider this whole little trip of yours extra credit_ -" it said. " - _When you are done with the strange excursion, we will begin your final training lesson Study_ - "

"Oh goodie good for me," said Wile. "You make it sound like you're going to teach me kung fu."

The machine, for the first time, acted like it had a sense of humour, saying in a matter-of-factly voice " -_ Well now I WOULDN'T say THAT... - " _

**9 months later**

Wile's knack for the technological culminated in one of his best inventions. And he'd gotten significantly older. Though outwardly, this didn't exactly make him appear any older. His basic instincts, like sight, taste, and smell improved, as did his vocabulary. And his persistence for a decent pair of "Trousers" didn't fade either; strange as it was, _this _was the acting driving force behind all his unlikely accomplishments. That and even with the underwear on he still felt horribly _exposed_, and wanted to _not _be that, seeing as how it had some dignity.

The wide, thinly constructed console consisted of many keys and functions that allowed the coyote to keep track of his development, record all known logs of his recent inventions, and his conversations with the Agicalc.

It didn't stop there; he asked to look at the schematics for the Agicalc again for a few days, and the self-repairing, self-improving AI was more than happy to comply. Wile seemed focused on the camera built into the Agicalc for some reason.

His mind danced with so many ideas.

**- The Start of the New Year -**

The Agicalc picked one day to ask, " - _All this for a pair of pants? - And aren't you taking this too far?_ -"

Wile thought he'd gone crazy. The machine was actually concerned about _him_, this _thing _that could actually _feel nothing beyond all its tact, artificially generated language, and oddly receptive behavior._

"I'm not sure. But at least I know I'm going to find out. Bugger me, but I'd like to ask, you sneak out at night and chase down the species that is my food every so often, _don't you?_" He _snickered. _

The machine fell silent.

Wile's face softened. "I'm just asking. Not a bit of trouble with that, I hope."

" - _analyzing question _- _answer _found - _Then the answer is yes - _"

"So then, _that _has nothing to do with you being free from the escape I crashed onto this planet with?"

" - _If I actually had human feelings, I'd actually feel intimidated, sarcastic, paranoid, and surprised - _"

"And if I were a machine, like you, I probably wouldn't be doing any of this for a pair of pants," he laughed. Then his expression switched. "Hey, it's _working!_" he cried. "It's... really working!"

A holographic image showed up, and it was a spectacular view. Enough that it would have taken the old coyote's breath _away_. But here it was: the barren, and almost uninhabitable planet that he'd been stranded upon since escaping the _Protectorate. _It was yellow, the pale kind, and it had also no clouds curling about it and there was a long stream of _water_.

The machine was also watching, and then asked, "_ - How specifically did you manage to lanuch those into space? - _"

"Oh," he reacted in a surprised tone. "That, uh, well, I MAY have scraped some of my previous failures, and _some of your own metallic shell into an amalgam shell and installed a bunch of rockets _at the base. By remote, I can easily dictate which direction they go around the planet, so they stay in orbit. Yep... _all _three of them. And best of all, it was a self-test to prove if I can launch anything that wasn't _me_, and play around with the probability of applying a gravity drive in other ways. ..."

" - _killing 3 birds _with _one stone_ -_ as the phrase is said_ -" said the Agicalc.

Wile's retort was more excited. "Exactly!"

2 more holographs, appearing on the left and right sides of the 1st one featuring the planet. The left panel showed _water... _and the sight of that made the coyote's mouth drop open in desperation. The third one on the right was more mountains.

- **2 hours later**

Wile could be seen literally _riding _the floating Gramophone AI towards a large pool of water. The camera showed nothing dangerous about it, and he decided nothing dangerous was in it.

" -_ how exactly did you convince me to take you here I won't know? - _" said the machine.

Wile didn't figure that it mattered and in a few seconds started on his way rushing towards the _pool, _that _amazing, glorious, _cool _pond of refreshing... healing... water. _Wile especially loved hearing "Healing" in his head, given the last difficult years of ridiculous pains and misery of learning and boulders falling on his head. His face lit up like a sun.

" _Inquiry_ - _What appeal do you flesh animals see in the water? -_ " The machine doubtfully asked, but there was _no _answer, instead just a pair of underwear being flung onto the spinning floating ring. " _Reaction - if I had eyes they'd probably pop wide with horror and also be a better conveyor of my own disgust - _"

_SPLASH_

" - _Analysis - a thought occurs, that a coyote can't swim - also that - hold on a second - he's actually swimming - that shouldn't even be impossible_ -"

Though it was for Wile, who took to swimming faster than fish did the moment they are born. As he paddled back (Dogs of course all have this instinct, whether or taught or genetically still amazingly debated) he sat at the thinnest end of the shallow water, and splashed and played around like a little kid.

Afterwards he sat up and ducked down to drink some of the water. the life-giving fluid tickled down his throat and he felt like a completely revitalized jackal. He proceeded to let out a sigh of relief.

_Oh goodness, I really needed that. _

After a minute he came up to find the machine in an artificial stasis; and there was the underwear, which he snatched and proceeded to put them on.

The machine reactivated, and as it did so, one of disconnected arms also sprang to life and reached for the lever and went into rapid seconds of rewinding the level and setting the needle... so _that _was how it did so when he wasn't looking.

"I daresay I'm actually ready to go back," he said.

**- 2 hours later**

The machine was now surveying the newest addition in the cave. "_ - Inquiry - what exactly is this? - _"

Wile grinned and said, "The end to my half-naked troubles, which _you _started."

" - _Initiating less than witty response of infuriation - Ya know, tossing the blame ball does not a point make_ - "

"And asking questions is pointless when better defined by action," said the cultured jackal. "Allow _me _to demonstrate."

Wile walked over to a small platform he installed, under the supervision of the Agicalc, that now floated a reasonable distance into a corner to watch.

He stood on it and pressed a button, causing a something like a light blanket to cover the torso, arms, and legs. A ring fell from the ceiling around him, stopping at his waist. A second light enveloped the coyote, going from the bottom to _up _this time.

A annoying voice suddenly boomed over the airwaves: "WELCOME, valued customer, to the Acme FAB and Slab Designer Costume Emporium! _We cater all to your Clothy Needs! _Now ALL we _need aRE your Aw-aw-aw-aw-awesome credentials,_" it sang, then "_seeeeeeeex,_" it hissed, and then, "SIIIZE!" it sang.

Another big scan was run, and Wile stood there in dignified pose. When the scan was finally complete, the annoying voice went a little neutral:

"Ahhhhh, I SEE you're in an unregistered Galaxy. _Puh-lease get down and check with your local universal super computer for more info-" _

Of course this transmission was interrupted as Wile pressed a button in thin air. Then he waited, and the transmission was re-established.

"Ohhh, _you're reeeaally naaaastY in this business AREN'T you? You are now entitled to a free selection of clothes... be SWIFT, cause then comes the fun part!" _

More holographic imagines, shaky and very hard to make out appeared before him. Wile knew this was the case, because he was in a different galaxy in contrast to the Solar system. He had no idea of a word that could describe the distance he was from home.

"Let see what there is to be chosen _from_," he said. the first one he selected caused a light to materialize around his body, and then, a similated image had Wile dressed in light red shirt, and white pants, and a white flats that fit marvellously on his paws. It had the title over it that said, "Miami"

"Next," he said.

He picked another screen that projected the image of black leather, black undershirt, a blue jacket, and black boots. He shook his head. "Next."

the next one came with _no _pants, but a large blue sweater, a red _hat_, and white paint over his paws. The title was "Cloud Cukoolander".

The Agicalc suddenly came up with the od response of, "_ - Fits -_"

Wile snarled and then asked, "Woah. Okay, NEXT."

The next was a little interesting... the image projected had been listed as "Lycanthrope". In this case, he had black pants, boots with metallic soles, and a long dull green overcoat with a huge neckguard that covered up his mouth, and his hat had the patriotic feel of an _officer's cap_.

He felt surprisingly comfortable.

"I'll take _this _one for free," he said. The Projection ended, and he was in just the underwear once more. But then the annoying voice said, "_Thank you for making the FA-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-BULOUS selection from our dept. Enjoy the Sweet realistic synthesis as you are automatically outfitted with your NEW Clothes! Good DAY!" _and then the voice ended right there.

" - _analysis - Like listening to a cheese grater - _"

"No kidding!" Wile stretched out both arms as he suddenly started to have a white flash begin moving over him. In a matter of seconds the suit had fully formed. Wile tested it out by tugging it to see if it was the real thing:

Polyester, and thinly woven. The dull green felt pretty reflective of what he was, isolated, secretive, and an ebb worn down from all sorts of unfamiliar things. He liked it!

" - _You really do go well with green, mutt -_"

"Yeah," said the coyote, examining himself in the mirror. "You probably have a point."

" - _In fact, maybe you'd go even better if you had a name change - like say, Instead of Wile E. Coyote - You could be something as the flesh-breathers, say, "cooler", like... "Tech E. Coyote" - " _

At this, Wile's eyes bunched up, and he looked like he'd just heard the sound of himself rolling in his grave. Then he gave the Agicalc a stare nastier than any Wile E. Coyote would've given anybody. His teeth bared like'd never done before, his eyes went blinding red with _rage_, his ears stiffened, and if possible, his teeth got even longer. He stomped on over in his new coat, and acting _very _fast, _faster than the _Agicalc had ever seen, and snatched the machine before it'd even made a move; the coyote had a devilsh look on his face that would've killed on sight. He couldn't hold back to the dangerous snarls coming out of his mouth.

"NEVER use such a stupid as _bugger _name around me. Don't even _MENTION it offhandedly, AGAIN. EVER._ It'll be _good _for you. _Because then I won't have to rip out your AI, then take that and spread butter on it while I place that on crumpets, and swallowed you whole. ALL with a nice, fat cup of TEA._"


	6. 3 Centuries worth of Babbling

Wile had made plans, but he never acted on them, until the time had come. Now that time had come. But now he started making them; and they weren't gonna be unmade. Unlike everything that he'd been forced to contend with, _this _would now make up for all the shitload of time he'd spent.

The AI continued to prove itself a relentless, insisting, annoying _thing_ that served to only fullfill its' duty of _instructing _him. But on what, felt vague to the coyote. But he decided it was this: that he was _terrified_ of himself, because he didn't know anything about the world, was _shocked _because he'd awakened 3 centuries into the future, was _upset _that he didn't remember anything of his past other than fragmented pieces of his childhood, his _father_, _and _his own name, but they didn't amount to a hell of beans. Then his escape. He had no idea how many lightyears he passed, what speed that screaming metal death trap he snatched for 20 dollars went, or even if he was still in the same _star system_. Trapped on a planet with _nothing _to do but _learn _his butt off of all aspects, cultures, and _sub-_cultures, and marvelous technology, _and _species that the universe, or at the least, _just _the limits of the Solar System. But through adversity, the clever jackal pushed through it all.

That day went slow as ever, when Wile went back to the taking lessons from the Agicalc, now less of an annoying, frightful, _sadistic _thing that still dropped boulders on him from time to time.

Such as one occassion:

" - _It is now pop quiz time - what is black and white all over - _"

"Absurd question!" Wile screamed. "There are a number of things: like a Dalmation, a newspaper, a smart little blighter AI getting painted to resemble a big fat _cow_..."

" - _incorrect _- "

"WHAT?" was all Wile had to say before another Rock materialized over his head and then-

_SMASH!_

Another sign appeared underneath the rubble via a wobbly hand that said, (... _Some people can't take a joke_)

- **Another occassion**

"Agicalc," said Wile. "What do you think the secret of life is?"

Upon hearing this question, the computer let out what would've sounded like a hollowed out corny version of a snicker. " - _Analysis -_ _MY advice? Is that you Never take a short cut on an abandoned road to a REST Stop _- "

Wile blinked, then stared at the audience before sputtering out, "... what does that mean?" Except the machine wasn't really paying attention.

" - _Huh? OH, never you mind me, fleshwalker. Just keep studying, uh, HERE, listening to some Musak! -_ "

And with that, the machine's cone actually started playing some musak, the sound of which made Wile's sensitive ears vibrate in anger. Then he burst out yelling, _"HEY! Turn that OFF! I HATE that campy, nasty _tune!"

Then the machine said, _" - Muzak is the agreeable alternative for when standing in elevator, or watching two old geezers beating each other down - You obviously have no taste - also, I have estimated that your age in terms of your coyote geneaology is around 54 years_ - _" _

"If it has to do with my teeth wearing, then _yes_... I guess so," said the jackal, opening up his mouth to expose an amazing, sarp set of teeth he concealed underneath his jaw. His front teeth only looked about as normal as they could be. Then he continued with, "But also, _You don't have any taste because you're a machine!_ _A Frog has more taste than you! HA! _Face, silly machine!"

Which was met with... duh, da-da-duh!

BOULDER!

Which prompted Wile's sign of (_Uh-oh_)

WHAM!

Thus another arm shot out with another sign with the words (_HA! At least my point stands that a frog has more taste_)

_" - Analysis - my databanks show that Frogs don't actually have any taste glands - _"

FLIP

(... _touche_)

- **Later On past this point, 1 year**

Aside from the comedy bits, things were pretty much the same. (Random Off-topic note: But in the matter of the boulders falling on the coyote, THOSE are different than that time he _would've _been impaled by the sharp rocks. Boulders are NOT lethal, but sharp rocks are) Wile couldn't think of anything to do but work.

Working did culminate in more outside activities; some benefits included the setting up a large juggernaut pillar on one of the desert.

Wile and the Agicalc were standing in front of it, albeit 4 feet.

"... And the best part is, I'm _wearing _clothes, which makes this _more _professional by .7 percent!"

" - _you act like this is a very powerful achievement -_ " said the machine who didn't sound like it was excited or against the strange specimen's efforts either way.

"'Powerful achievement', indeed!" Wile yelled. "Watch THIS."

He had a controller, and then pushed the lever up a smidgen, causing the juggernaut to activate and rumble.

" - _really now - another earthquake machine? _- "

"Nope," said he, who watched with a big, excited grin. The juggernaut started to rumble then ceased as _instead_, two small _stand-_like things suddenly appeared.

Now the gramophone saw something to be analyzed. " - _Laser Turrets? - An entire juggernaut used to create laser turrets? - _"

Wile had a childishly crazy look on his face. "_Beautiful, isn't it?_"

" - _That word is not in my data banks_ - _But what use is LASERS? - _"

"For a computer you are _dense_. The applications, man! The _applications! Carving _into walls, _shooting _objects! _Detecting any foreign materials embedded within rock, like an encrypted KEY CODE!_" The excitement with which he said this was beginning to get creepy. "It's FOOL-proof!" he screamed, in his excitement pushing up the lever and causing the intensity of the lasers to increase. One of the lasers aimed in his direction and then BOOM! shot at Wile, electrocuting him and turning him into a pile of ashes... thankfully he survived, but he coughed painfully and wheezed out, "_Yes... I know I walked right into that one_! Don't say anything!"

" - _analysis - finding it REALLY hard not to -_"

In many days the Agicalc ceased its' "Testing" though Wile was still to focused on his pet projects to notice.

- **Days Later **-

Wile now sported bandages made from synthesis around his waist and head. The hat covered head, and he was working on the design for something else.

" - _You really ought to think about your health before you do something fatal, mutt _- "

Wile didn't bother looking up. "Relax. A Boulder couldn't crush me to death, and a laser couldn't incinerate me either! To yours... _and _my own surprise, go figure, I can withstand a ton of dangerous injuries and, implausible as it sounds, come out virtually _unscathed_."

" _- Report - Understood in this manner then, so you may say no more - But how long are you going to keep wearing that?_ - "

Wile paused to check himself and said, "Don't see anything wrong with this. I like this clothing. And the ONLY reason I wear this is that I don't feel... _awkward_."

" - _Correction - I was actually talking about the hat_ - "

And as Wile shot another stunned look at the machine it continued, "_ - the hat has a Nazi symbol on it. The future is intolerant of symbols that involve some sort of racism against another race - In this case, this sort of thing is like, in the 2nd Century the- _"

"Zylons and the Creektonians of Zylon - Creektonia 3, so the _Protectorate _intervened to negotiate a peace treaty against the extremist-Eco-terrorists to stop throwing duck-manure-carrying cartridge shells on the lawns of couples with 2 kids, a quasi-terrier, and card-carrying, anarchist-labeled, left-winging delegates of the Creektonians' high-paying slave industry of cheese underwear. Yes. I know. I learned that about 5 years back, didn't I?"

(**Note: That's quite possibly THE dumbest thing I've written in a fanfic.**)

" - _Affirmed _- _But the hat is old school, and also, according to history, Not too many were fond of the Nazis - _"

Wile took off his hat and said in a troubled voice, "_Was it really that bad?_"

" - _Reply - I wonder what all my info-giving was for, then. _- _" _

"That won't be a problem! I wasn't too especially fond of the hat, anyway. Not when I have _this_," said Wile, who pulled up something off the floor. It was a Helmet. He put on the helmet then pressed the button on the side. "It fits!" came the voice from inside. The helmet fit his head and big, comically floppy nose like a glove; his ears were covered soundly beneath the helm. The whole of the helmet had the dimensions of a big metal nose, though Wile didn't seem to mind. The bottom had vents, through which he could breathe, and voice filter that made his voice sound deep.

"_With this, nobody will recognize me!" _

" - _Okay, and how does this help? - _"

Wile took off the helmet and thought about it. "Well, _I'm _a very humble Genius. With an ego. The size of Cleveland. And a hairy body. But it's not enough," he said, reaching down to grab something. He pulled it up with his long claws to reveal a large canister with a trigger at the bottom. It was a gun with a large barrel.

" - _I believe I've seen this before. That it a 29-Caliber "Magma Cannon". And you built that all by yourself - _"

Wile grinned feverishly. "Oh, I _did_. It's good at close range, it's _perfect _for hunting, _AND, _it has the most basic design I've seen for future weaponry. Four holes for multi-fire. I'm IN LOVE with it!"

The Gramophone's expressionless cone stared intently at it then at left corner of the cave. Sitting in the left corner was another weird little addition that became one of the fleshy dog's untested inventions. A large hollow battle armor that had yet to have been _completed_. This one came with a completely different mask, all curves and had red-tinted x-rays for scanning targets. The custom feet were metal and had digging claws installed - possibly for digging, it registered - and body plates.

Wile walked over, upon seeing the machine eye the hollow body. "_I'm going hunting. _It started awhile back, but, I started getting visions. I know you wouldn't understand being an advanced machine yourself, but my latest memories had shown me something I lacked... _for certain... this carnivorous _nature."

" - _Affirmative - Coyotes are in fact, a very carnivorous species - they need meat - _"

Wile agreed, but now he became curious to something he never noticed; like why the computer was acting like it knew so much about coyotes, even though Wile was technically the _only _coyote it'd ever seen, and edcuated. "All I've had to live on were bugs, pity as it stands. But instead of living off the mercy of _you_, I plan on getting something with a little more _sweat_, _more _meat in my systems. I... but I suppose I'm just ranting," he said, looking away. The Gramophone responded with, " - _Yes, you are definitely ranting - I've also affirmed that you love hearing yourself talk, which in itself is also a bad habit - _"

"_And you're _a regular weisenheimer. That's neat," snapped the jackal. But this moment was quickly swept away as Wile's eyes bunched together in excitement. "_Hey. _I might need your _help_."

" - _And how specifically? - _" answered the Gramophone machine. " - _foolproofing your Trap Exercises? - _"

"NO!" the coyote yelled savagely, who ran over to the pair of shoes he had in the corner. "It's this."

" - _Your boots? - _" said the machine. It was starting to slow down, and thus it's self-re-activation kicked in to overtime, rewinding the lever at hyperspeed.

"Good guess," said the grinning jackal, who sat down on the furnished chair and slipped on the black shoes, sporting a great deal of _metal _on the bottom. But it was a dainty _thin _layer. Once he put both, the machine asked, " - _how exactly do you need my help for the boots? - _"

"Oh, no. Not the boots," said Wile. Then a fiery whiteness began to fire down and soon the coyote was actually floating _up_. The coyote grinned. "They work perfectly. _Just as I was confident they would_. I should probably call them the charge boots._" _Then Wile landed cafefully... with a CRASH!... eh, most things go as one would expect them. Wile landed flat on his chest, and the feet still in the air. He coughed, "wheeze... _gettin' _used to them... but otherwise, _perfect._"

The machine floated in range of the boots, and discovered groove marks in the soles; to its own surprise it was very impressed. " - _The design of the sole suggests you can ride guardrails and even climb up walls - what ARE you planning? - "_

Wile got up, and brushed off the dirt from his soles. "Exactly," he said. "I've so much in knowledge and technology, that I'm not going to be confined to this tiny brown speck in the middle of nothing, not anymore." With that, Wile casually eyed a piece of paper on the table. On the paper was a rough sketch that looked like in shape a bird that Wile had been told about much earlier - a phoenix. _Most sub-cultures of natives christened the phoenix as a thing that represented the soaring symbol of freedom and rebirth. _"I believe that I have learned more than enough to properly take on living in the same universe I ran away from... well, _feed _off of it and in turn use all its incredible resources at _my _disposal. And therefore, I guess this means there's no more point in my having to endure _you_."

The machine didn't respond. Wile thought he hit a snag in its' programming, and predicted that it might even attempt to take him down. But he didn't expect what he heard next:

" - _Confirmed - Of course you may leave the planet, coyote - You've always had the opportunity." _

The egocentric coyote squinted his eyes and whispered, "... _What!_" There was a hint of rage in his voice.

" - _Mutt_ -" said the Agicalc, who's bizzare mechanical voice was suddenly sounding _less _mechanical, " - _Do you remember much of what I said to you way back in the beginning?" _

Wile did. He said, "Well I know you made a very lame reference to Portal in _name_. And you called me "Special friend". That, and instead of this "transformed" version I see standing before me, there was just the Gramophone with crazy gadgets that fed me Bugs. For the LAST, NINE and a half years. And you sounded more... robotic than you do now."

" - _Confirmed - but be assured that I am all machine - And my primary function was exactly that_, to instruct those who'd been newly awakened from stasis on the common everyday practices and history of the 24 1/2 _century_ - be they animal or human. -"

Wile didn't know what to think, given that he already knew _all _of this from observation, and now the machine was _just _starting to _explain _itself, after all those years of forceful and infuriating study only made better by time the coyote had to work on all of those side projects. "What are you trying to say?" he asked.

" - I've only been programmed with what I know. 2 centuries worth of information by the Acme Corporation when it was still a leading power in the market of gadgets, props and goofballs stunts, gags, practics, traps, and your occassionally _potentially _dangerous weapons."

Wile blinked twice and then confusedly asked, "Hold on, "Practics"?"

The machine floate down and said, "Yeah. Practics. Pratical jokes."

Wile's nose dropped like a deflated balloon like he was expecting something better. "Go on."

" - _2 Centures worth _of information to instruct any who'd been defrosted. Of course, multiple models like were produced, though I was in fact, one of the last models. Using the newly discovered _Nano-technology_."

Wile was astounded by the discovery... but then not as surprised. He'd FIGURED it out already from just watching the Gramophone improve itself. Instead of being a mostly _headless _thing with legs, it now sported disconnected joints with a _chrome _color. If _Chrome _wasn't an obvious giveaway, Wile didn't know what was anymore. "That WOULD explain the self-activation. And Regeneration. And self-improvement. And your Tap-dancing talent. But I keep getting this feeling there's _more _to your story than meets the eye."

The Gramophone suddenly floated down and "Sat" in one of the chairs. The legs were in position like when a human crosses his legs, and arms lowered just like when a human is sitting at an interview. Wile rolled his eyes; the thing acted like it wanted to _be _passed as a human. But he decided to go along with the gag and grabbed a chair for himself.

" - You mind if I ditch the electronic voice? Good. So, where was I? OH. Anyways, Nano-technology. Now I know what you're thinking: society couldn't have evolved that fast, _right_? You're right, but also you're wrong. The idea for it came along, just _not _the actual invention. The idea's source was a low-income _Elementary School_ in the Virginia county, the South-eastern suburbs of Acme Acres, whose regime, agenda, and educational palette are all unknown to me. All this was programmed into my main memory circuit. -"

"And what's your point in saying that?"

" -... I have two. One that activates usually when I cease function. It's a lot like when a flesh-goer _is sleepwalking, or talking in their _sleep, or _unsubconsciously acting _on an external physical nocturnal activity; ever heard of _morning wood_?"

Wile's face shrank and eyes popped open before he stuttered, "N-n-no. Can _we stray AWAY from that, please? KIDS are _reading this story!"

The machine agreed. "- _... Say _no more. Well, what can a machine that was way advanced before its time do, exactly? NOTHING besides examining data. Going over records of _everything _I'd been programming to _know. _This was the 20th Century: There was very little ranging from the start of the age of the automobile to the invention of a Can of Soda."

The machine paused.

"I'm designed to teach. I am the Agicalc. But I'd been shut down before I _did _anything or could be used."

"I'm still at a loss. Explain at detail how a sophisticated piece of technology like yourself was stored away. In the exact same rocket I'd escaped in!"

"- I don't know how to shorten," said the Agicalc. " - Maybe _this _will tie things up. I don't know who, but someone would periodically input new data about something new that became public knowledge. This kept happening for about... 3 centuries."

"Duh," said Wile.

"Don't be snippy!" said the Gramophone.

"You were _saying_?" said the jackal, intent on getting back to the Gramophone's story.

"I was _built to teach_," said the machine. "And that's about it. I'm the standard linear Computer-Who-Watches, but with bells and whistles and nice things. But Acme scrapped my model because, in opposite terms, _The body is willing, but the "Spirit" is spongy and weak." _

"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak?" Wile corrected the machine. "Do you understand the number of things _wrong _with that statement? And why say it?"

"You are supposed to be the genius - wouldn't you have already known that its supposed to be a metaphor? In _my _case, the nanotechnology that as you see right now, has exceeded all expectations and evolved. Yes, it would continue on, because of a recently discovered top secret element that the Government decided to hide or something utterly illogical as a similarity: Raritanium, the basis off all _nano-tech_. _But _me? I'm just an AI they cleverly built into the Gramophone. Yes, I had synaptic link-up capabilities to the disjointed arms and legs, even though that hadn't been improved upon yet. And my duration, my _function _was only to _last _about... 9 years, so that the Government wouldn't deal with _another _berserk AI gone rogue from its intended use."

_9 years... _thought Wile. _And Raritanium, much like what I've learned, is durable ship-building material. _But he burst out saying, "But that's how long we've been on this planet. Are you TELLING me that-!"

"You are correct," said the machine, not affected by Wile's surprised response. "Very soon I will cease functioning and all, because for the record, a Gramophone does not a very adaptable modem for an AI make."

"But I don't get it! Y-You're... you've... you've taught me all those things," said Wile in a very failing tone, a little distraught that the only thing that gave him what he had was soon to be gone. He suddenly felt a little like some of the fire in his eyes was gone. "And now you're going to cease functioning?"

"I'll get right onto asking your pity over a machine later, once I've finished my little "life story". So you must maintain a calm and collected state as I do."

Wile knew it was right, so there was no point in lingering on it. He let the machine finish its story, strange as it was getting, and even stranger.

"All though, that discovery was something that didn't bother me. On the other hand, being tossed out into the garbage before I could enter full service had a disappointing ring to it. They'd already built learning centres by the time of the 21st century. A machine of my design was for "home tutoring". Acme went for something that would line their pockets that wasn't me. And luck would have, one century later, I'd end up inside one of the prototype pods."

Wile took this moment to say, "The pod I escaped in. There was more of that model?"

"Correct. The _Ford Yackel Escape Pod B-9_. But then, one quarter of the way in the 21st Century, _that became _obsolete, like me, with the _explosion _of research that led to the creation of Energy cores, The space-ships that use them, _and _the new era that took a nose-dive with the first thing on Earthling's minds being exploration. As for the _Ford Yackel Escape Pod B-9_ models, they were either scraped, had parts taken off for advanced ships or they were turned into Trash Cans. The _real _irony is that I happened to be thrown in one of them. And though I do not believe in the concept of Events by Happenstance in Positive Favor, also known as "Luck" to the flesh-goers, it _was _one of the very first prototypes."

"If I may..." said Wile.

"Inquiry?" said the Agicalc.

"There are a couple of flaws in your story; _one_, you've been _actively _aware of these events _and _you didn't manage to do anything about it."

"_Because _of the fact that I have not _been _used, and since I've been used by you frequently, that allowed the Nano-tech to upgrade me. My "Un-use" wouldn't have brought me any closer to the time when my AI would be terminated."

Wile clasped his mouth shut, and pondered what point there was for him to even have a voice if he didn't _think _before talking. The Agicalc made a sound point.

"The chronology of my "story" in this case, would end here. Until the start and end of the nine my function had been in being geared to "home instructing", you, of course."

And that was when the both of them fell silent. Wile didn't know if there was a point in the Agicalc's story, let alone what _part, _Wile E. Coyote wanting to escape the planet had to do with it. Then it hit him.

"Wait a minute... are you planning to _keep me here?_ _No_. I should think _that'd _be the case. _Maybe_... there's one _last _thing you wanted to _impart upon me, like another Lesson_?"

" - _Your brain seems to be working in overdrive today, mutt. -_"

The Agicalc didn't say anything until it rose up from the seat, and pointed one of its' aesthetic, chrome fingers at the coyote.

" - _I watched you... "Grow up" as the saying goes. I've instructed you to know what an "unfrozen" is to know about the universe. Your engineering is on par with that of a robot. Elegant, yet stiff. You even have a natural talent for Traps... even though, uh, 99% percent of the time those traps backfire on you. I'm certain that with time could probably learn to avoid all of that with your time powers. -_"

"My... what?" Wile screamed, standing up. "How did you...? I don't even know what you're talking about...! How could you have POSSIBLY known...?"

" _- Did you readily assume that had known nothing about your repeated, "secret" attempts to manipulate time? Let me tell you another story...! -_"

Even though Wile was caught red and looked positively pale, he asked, "_I think you've done enough story-telling for _one fanfic."

The menacing tone left the machine replaced by a confused, "_- Seriously? I thought the whole "coincidental" thing stuff was pretty cool. I figure I'll get a grammy for it- but that's beside the point. Anyways, it's a scientifically designated fact that Gramophones are unaffected by time shifts... _in theory. - "

The machine tried sounded more serious. Wile didn't take any chances and grasped the hilt of the gun. "When...? Just tell me. _When_?"

"_About a few years back, on that day when you were nearly killed by the shrapnel of the mountain. I had flown out of view but noticed that one of the rocks hadn't hit you. You simply vanished from the spot before it would've hit. I was unable to compute such a phenomenon._"

Wile didn't say anything, but his knees were shaking under the coat; it was proof he was very afraid, and had no idea what was going to happen to him.

" - _But to hazard on an educated guess, you haven't improved your powers, have you? Whatever it is, you've caused something to happen in my programming. This thing that humans and anthros have called, "Feeling", is what it must be. And you've continued to amuse me, in ways I hadn't even seen. And I want to make proposal, if its no trouble with you.-" _

Wile didn't know if this was a moment where he could relax; but to his horror, he _did_. And with great effort he stop the shaking in his knees long enough to sit down in the chair. He looked at the Agicalc. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss here. What specifically do you mean? _What _proposal?"

"- _Allowing me to fulfil my last function, and teach you some of the methods in physical defense. -_"

"Physical _what...? _Defense?" Wile stammered. "Do you mean like... fighting?"

" - _That's one way of putting it_. - "

"... I don't get it."

" - _I don't get it either. But you could look at like this. I know that my program termination is only a few months away. I have this unnatural, illogical drive in me that, though unchecked, seems to have been influenced by randomized, unlikely style of thinking that does make me compute this: the idea of being able to go out with a bang. -" _

"I... what... _go out with a bang_... influence... I... _fighting_... makes no sense... sorry... you... mind... what... _fire?_" drabbled Wile, whose brain had reached a critical point and felt like someone tossed his brain into a frying pan; and you can hardly blame him. It wasn't easy trying to understand the irregular ideas that popped into the head of an AI.

" - _I see you are at a loss for words. That means you have agreed to my conditions. I will teach you how to fight. It will be the LAST session you will take in the Acme Gramophone Instructional Culture Adjustment Learning Centre Course for defrostees. Well... THAT, and for Extra Credit, you will be taught some fancy-sounding British Lingo. And once you have learned and adapted to your OWN unique style of fighting, your entire course will be wrapped up in a one-on-one fight between _you_, _Mr. Wile E. Coyote, and _me_, the Acme Gramophone Instructional Culture Adjustment Learning Centre. _Upon defeating me, I will impart upon you some additional information with the metallic elements I will leave behind for you to build your ship and escape the planet. Though if you don't... you will be killed. Good night. -_"

With that the Agicalc shut down, leaving a flustered, disillusioned, traumatized coyote standing there still incoherently babbling in a soft voice.

**Later that evening**

Wile was still chewing on a leftover locus' _leg, _hanging out of his mouth. He was sitting outside on top of huge plateau against a smaller rock. He had nothing on (_Because he was the only living thing_ on the planet, and it suddenly got hot that evening) and he staring at the infinite blackness, but he didn't strain his eyes.

He really didn't get it; _certainly _not that computer, who now volunteered to teach him how to _fight _of all things.

But Wile tried making sense of it in his own mind, and even then _that _didn't sound like it'd make any sense.

_So it wants to teach me how to fight, then it wants to fight me, and it will actually KILL me if I don't kill IT. I don't even know how to FIGHT!... which in the long run doesn't really fill the well. Well... I know how to give a good 1-2! Maybe that counts. Mmm-yeah!... No. This is ridiculous! What am I supposed to gain by learning how to fight? What am I supposed to be fighting FOR? _

The instant he thought that it kept bothering him.

_What am I fighting for, anyway? Freedom would be TOO obvious an answer... I mean after all, I don't think I had any other specific goal in mind after getting out of here. I'm not even sure if I have a place in the universe... _

_But really, now! FIGHTING? What would I know of it? _

His mind despaired a little, knowing almost for certain about his own limited "Physique". There was hardly _any _question about that... that _thing _had twice the strength Wile had!

_Oh don't think like that, Wile old boy, _he tried calming himself, slowing down on the locus leg in his mouth. _I can't think negatively. That machine taught you of Japan and much of its cultures, sub-cultures... and other things that America have adapted into their everyday lifestyle. The style of Kar-RAT-te, as its' pronounced. Let's see... I remember. I was also taught there was the "Judo", which was the gentle method, perfected by a fellow named Kano Jigoro of the 18th century. "Aikido"! By Morihei Ueshiba of the 18th century as well... emphasizing force with force. And... well, you know, that stuff. There was also that "Krav Maga", which is... a thing called the "Hebrews" translation of electric hand-to-hand combat. Whatever the case... The Agicalc said it was going to teach me before it fights me. That's no different than if a 14th Century executioner gave his convicted the opportunity to choose his method of BEING killed! _

_And I don't have much of choice: it KNOWS that I can also manipulate Time... _

Wile decided to quit and not overthink everything, worried if he was going to get a headache. He figured it was just better to sleep some of if off, and avoid stressing out. He slept, as he thought to himself.

_I don't know if it'd be wise to decline at least the OFFER of learning to have a fighting chance..._

_Or if NOT wearing underpants this evening was wise._


	7. Running Scared Reference

Wile E. Coyote put down the knife and fork as he wiped his mouth with the napkin. _Best meal I've had in ages_, he thought. Though technically the meal was the standard giant locus, but he wasn't complaining. The taste was beginning to get a little bitter.

" - _Finished, mutt? - _"

"Certainly. The bug was simply marvelous. It ALMOST beats away the fact that you're being extremely cheerful about wanting to _kill _me in a fighting stand-off."

" - _I do my best. _- "

Wile continued sitting at the table, but the machine insisted, " - _It's now time to begin your final course. - _"

Wile didn't disagree or say no, but he despairingly asked, "Explain to me something. Why does it have to be a "_Fighting_" course? Couldn't it be _something else? I'm... _not exactly cut out to do any _fighting_. IF anything, I feel more like a bee that does a better job stinging somebody when they're NOT looking."

If possible, the floating Gramophone now looked like it was going to burst into _laughter_. " - _Simple enough to answer. I process that there is a higher chance of you learning to control your illogical abilities when pitted directly against something that would cause you any form of a threatened feeling or great amounts of stress. - _"

Wile didn't attempt to make an answer, knowing that given its' abilities, it was probably right. Instead, Wile's face twisted the wrong way, he became irritated, and his groan came out more like, "Rrrrrr..."

" - _I detect your inability to process through something. - Is it me knowing that you have said powers at your disposal? Was this something you just blindly assumed you could keep secret from me?_ - "

And Wile managed not to _yell_, "YES."

" - _Unable to assure you if such a deduction will make things better, but come with me outside when you are fully dressed - _"

With that, the Agicalc floated upward, then uniformly left the cafe, leaving the brooding jackal in white undergarments to mull.

The machine was waiting for him, for sure, outside. It turned to face him while Wile readjusted his coat collar.

" - _Excellent. You've arrived. In your nice little Nazi coat, no less._ -"

Wile sat down. Withstanding the heat in the trench-coat was more of a burden when not restricting his activities to the cave. And he wasn't putting it past the machine's capacity for making stupid jokes anymore.

"So," said Wile. "What were we going to cover, exactly? The history of fighting? The technical manuevers that can be formulated into complicated equations? HOW about-?"

But the Agicalc interrupted with an abrupt, loud, " - _DODGE!_ - "

"WHAT?" screamed Wile when the one of the Agicalc's disjointed arms flew right into his face-

POW! Which sent the poor jackal flying into the air before an ungraceful landing. At once, his his more basic animal instincts kicked in as he flipped back on his feet. He was in a bent position. Once he got his head _straight _he switched his head around fast to see _no _Agicalc in sight. _Where is IT...?_

" - _DODGE! - _" was all Wile heard when he switched to see another of the _arms _shooting out. POW! Wile didn't have a second to dodge and like the Agicalc had said, _was _feeling the pressure take hold. "OOOooooooff!" he cried.

In a matter of seconds Wile was back on his feet, and sporting the most marvelous black eye he'd ever had. And stars around his _head_. "Ow," he said.

He and the Agicalc had a stare-down, and Wile thought he was going to scream if he made- the- wrong- _move_...

FFFWOOOSSHHHH! went the _arm_, and Wile couldn't dodge. Ironic, as when the fist made contact with his cheek, the Agicalc kept yelling,

"**D-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-ODGE!**"

- **One Week LATER**

The Agicalc was aimlessly standing around in the desert, while Wile stood at a very good distance in a Karate _pose_... and a Karate uniform... and holding a Karate book. He kept browsing the pages full of _information, _and as he skimmed he got an idea. _Perfect_, he was thinking, closing the book. _Time to make a go at it! _

_"_HUUUU-WWWWUUUUAAAAH!" screamed the jackal, charging at the Agicalc at full speed. The machine didn't budge an inch not even when Wile reached over and started _wacking _it with one hand. "YAH!"

But that didn't leave so much as a dent. So Wile's next course of action? Use the other hand.

_WACK! _

_... _which didn't do anything. So then he started attacking it with both hands, hitting the metal plating wildly. "YOI-YOI-YOI-YOI-YOI-YOI-YOI-YOI-YOI-YOI-!"

_TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP!_

Then Wile had to stop cause he was all out of breath. "Hah... hah... hah... _Had _enough yet?" He yelled.

Then the agicalc caused a boulder to appear which then promptly flattened the coyote with a _THUNK!_

At which point wile stuck out hand from underneath with a little sign that said, (_Ouch!_)

- **One week later**

Wile was starting to get the hang of it, as that week he and Agicalc spent practicing basic reflexes. In the desert they could be seen practicing Melees. The Agicalc kept launching hits, while Wile was concentrating on just _dodging. _

I'll describe the exercise-

Agicalc launches a FIST- Wile dodges by stepping to the side- Agicalc launches a second and Wile bends back to avoid the fist (Which _strained _his both his arms and back - which was yet another reminder that week that despite being _launched 3 centuries into the future_, he was in fact, pretty old)- then Agicalc reeled back as its disjointed legs joined together, though still floating and one span around the other like a propeller fin- in response Wile jumped up and _streched _both legs out like a propeller fan as both the Agicalc's _"Legs" _passed casually underneath- then Wile landed on both feet. He grinned. "Hnn...!"

" - _NO! NO "Hnn...!" _sound! It's totally illogical!... _Also look behind you. -_"

Wile only had seconds to do so as he saw the leg "Opening" pop out a miniature _orb_ of incredible design, which was making a BEEP sound, and the beeping was getting _faster. _Wile squinted his eyes and said, "I say, is that a-"

_BOOM!_

Now Wile stood as smoking heap with baunched, dull eyes and carrying a sign that said, (_Bomb_) "*cough*" FLIP (_... Of course_)

**- Another Week IN (I love the Time Skippy Thing! **)

Wile's mettle started to shine vibrantly in the next few days, with the Agicalc being a patient mentor. Another day in the desert, the Agicalc decided at once that there should be a break, while Wile started practicing making traps. He was sitting on another plateau which he climbed up, bringing the materials along with him.

Out of nowhere did he begin to _remember_- when he was constructing something he saw as a holographic subject when he studied under the Agicalc. The Agicalc said it was called a "B1 - fighter Plane", but Wile made a smaller version of it, only big enough to carry another ancient relic, what the _French _called the "Grenade". The Grenade was a small anti-personnel _fire-arm _that had the shape of a normal sized fruit. The only difference? THIS fruit could blow up just about _anything if used correctly! _

_Time to test it out_, he thought. So holding the mini-plane up to his shoulder and launched it.

The _plane flew _magnificently, then wearily flew down to the spot where two _cacti _were standing one second it was there, then the mini-plane with the Grenade in it hit it and... KABOOM!

Wile grinned and said, "Success! Now to launch the first one," he muttered. He made two of them. His next launch would've gone smoothly, but then the plane started to wearily fly right on back.. towards him!

"Oh no!" he screamed holding his hands out. He was about to be hurt again, and closed his eyes, at the same time, he subconsciously tried _really _hard to press for that _power _he accessed _only _so _rarely...!_

_FOOOM_

"Ah...!" _Did... Did everything just go green around me for a second? _the startled Coyote was thinking. Whatever the case, he could easily see that now his little faulty invention was _still _coming at him.

Very. VERY. Slowly. In fact, he could see the rotator fans still spinning in a very slow motion. But he had no time to dwell on it and leapt _away _from the spot.

Though inside he was _grinning _and thinking to himself, _I did it!... but now how do I get it to go back to normal...? _

This question was answered in less than a second. The time suddenly reverted to normal, just as he thought, and _now _he was out of the _Grenade-ship_'s way... as it steered towards nothing but sand and- _KABOOM!_

But Wile had stepsided the blast, in excited fever, he started to laugh a little while he sighed... until he discovered that he was sitting next to a pack of dynamite that a had an elongated fuse that curved right near where the blast had just happened, and the blast sent a spark over to the cord, which then sizzled over to the pack of dynamite which happened be next to Wile who was sitting underneath a Boulder precariously perched on top of a clifface and then Wile said, "Well... _blimey_."

KABOOM!

In the next instant there was a scraggily black coyote in raggedy, clothing, in the aftermath of the blast. He was dizzy and horribly disfigured, though managed to hold up a shaky, hand with a sign that read, (_Can't get any worse_)

Except that the rock against the cliff he was sitting next too had been unbalanced by both explosions and now caused the rock to fall.

Wile did see this and then said, (_OH... (BLEEP)_)

BOOM!

the blackened coyote was crushed under the rock but managed to slip out another sign for, (_Physics just has it bad_ _for me_)

_But at the very least I'm getting the hang of it. The only downside that my head tends to hurt... I'll figure out a way to stop that. _

**- The Next Day (At this rate I will have mastered the art of making a character in a story MY BUTT monkey - Thank You TV tropes!**)

Another day had Wile pitted against the Agicalc for melee combat, but the Agicalc, while extremely hasty for the two months it had left to even _function _properly, could definitely afford to properly ensure Wile had it hands down. In this case, The Agicalc shot fist volleys- Wile didn't just dodge, he jumped, and then launched his own fist at the Agicalc - only for _it _to dodge. _Dodge, dodge dodge! _Wile screamed in his head. _Always the bloody dodging!_

Thus Wile saw in the corner of his eye the _machine sending the second arm back at him and..._

FZOOM

As Wile could see, the "greeness" seemed to manifest around him in a temporal space that stood outside anyone's normal _perception _of time- He could pretty much everything _around _his whole space move at a _pace _slower than _he _could. But not machines- demonstrated as the Agicalc's incoming _fist _breezed _over _Wile E. Coyote, but still fast enough for him to _feel _it. _Counter!_ he thought. He ducked the swing then launched an _uppercut right _into the chest area of the machine. "YES!"

The time shift lifted, though Wile hadn't done any damage.

"- _Excellent. Getting better. MUCH better. - _" said the Agicalc.

Wile stood up and wrung his hand and grit his teeth. He'd been surpressing the _biggest _"_YEEOWCH!_" in his system because that jolt he sent didn't even dent the wood work of the box!

" -_ The greatest surprise here, mutt, is that you've manage to try using your Time Warp... shift... distortion... thingy in bolt my strike, and launch a counter of your own. But as I have caculated 100% that you also know_, _your "Field" _is allowing you to move at a slightly faster _rate._ _Additionally_, that power doesn't affect machines... at this point. _You can't slow down incoming projectiles_, only _grant you the extra time necessary to avoid_. -"

Wile fell silent, as one of his ears did; he _might _have learned to use it, but the Agicalc was learning _more _about it than _he was_.

" - _A Bit off the subject, but don't you have a name for that?_ - "

"A "Name"? For _what_?" The old jackal snapped at it.

" - _Your power of course. In these sorts of things, the guy who possesses the power also has the right to NAME it. - _"

Wile was going to tell it that that was the most absurd thing he'd heard of in his life, but then he shut his mouth and mulled it over; he felt it probably wouldn't _do _him any good if he really _didn't _think of a way to refer to that power, especially when learning to explore the areas of _experimentation_ it could, by _name._ So yet again, _the Agicalc _was 100% right.

Wile thought it over. Then he _tipped _his nose as he came up with an idea. "_Maybe_ this: "Ward of _Absolute Suspension_"."

The Agicalc shook its' cone left and right, like a very clumsy and miniscule way as to say, "No". " - _Unfortunately, you can't use that. That's been copyrighted. By some crazy anime with effeminate, bug-eyed kill-crazy emo freaks. Done by a company that's named the same as the sound as what happens when a bird falls into a metal spring trap." _

_Darnit, _Wile said, slapping himself on the forehead. _He's right_.

Wile switched his head around, knocking at it thinking really hard. "Okay... what about _TIME skip_?"

" - _Negative. _That ONE show with your, pardon the expression, extremely OOC counterpart has a villain with that name. - "

The Coyote's sharp teeth were bared _very _quickly, and his fists clenched. In _pure _rage. "Honestly. That show is just a HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE KNOCK OFF! _How the devil could you SAY that? DEFENDING them?_" he yelled.

" - _Excellent question_. _Why are you dead set on having a British Accent? -_ "

Wile's left eye twitched, and his mouth _shrank _to a bit. "_Touché,_" he reluctantly caved.

" - _HA! I was merely bombarding your head with selective disinformation! Contrary to popular belief, the British don't carry any "Accents". - " _

This made Wile a little perplexed and shocked at the same time. "They _don't_?"

" - _Most certainly not_. The voice you've chosen for yourself is different. On the Earth-sphere, 2 centuries ago, that unusual myth about the British having accents had been dispelled for several reasons. The tiny island nation of Britain had a great population of dwellers that spoke an odd variety of different _accents _that couldn't be designated as just _one_. No, you see, this entire _stereotype_ originated in the vernacularly enlightened acting playwright, William Shakesphere _himself_. Though people did not find such a stereotype bad because of the shows they were "used" in at the time. Allow me to shorten this by asking you something. Do you know "Rhoticism"? - "

Wile gasped as he already discovered what the Agicalc was going to say, "The denotation of _English_, yes."

" - _Well The British were, in this case, NON-Rhotic_. They tended to drop the letter "R" in certain situations, or at the end of a word, or at the end of a paragraph. Some letters are pronounced as "ar, ber, cer, der". Example found: A very campy, _unusually overdone _accent would completely exclude the letter _"H"_. Shall I continue? -"

Wile smirked towards the audience (And reader) as he chuckled, "_Yeah, _it's not like there was anything else important we were supposed to be doing."

" - _There are spins on the Accent. I will tell you what yours "is" once I've finished. "Black Country" is middle english to Early Modern English, to say, "No, she doesn't." - " _

"Uh-huh," replied the jackal.

" - _The "Brummie". It's a collective accent that is characterized by unnatural levels of whininess and lack of attractiveness. Ozzy Osbourne used it in all his music. -_ "

"That makes sense," Wile said. "The fellow was freaking lunatic- Eating _bats heads..._" the Jackal grumbled a second later.

" - _The "Cockney". Really hard to say what this is or what it sounds like. Except that the only way it's best described is by association to criminals. They talk really thick, but really fast. The "Geordie"! This one for urbans, and is absolutely incomprehensible. Prostitutes use this one, because they are constantly out in the cold. The "Glasgow" Accents - "_ continued the Agicalc, " - _Are attributed to alcoholics. Drunkards. The opposing accent to this is called "Liverpool", which tends to be inclined to Catholic values. They are also fun-loving and sounding extremely frivolous and silly_. - "

"Who, Catholics?" asked Wile.

" - _Confirming response - Uh, no. That sect of people are in fact, DEAD serious. - _"

Wile thought he heard a drumroll in the background, but he didn't see any drums, so he shrugged it off in front of the audience.

"- _The "Manchester" is attributed to loquaciousness and mouthy foulness - Actually it's more upper class. The "Lancashire" rolls its "Rs". This one is more Rhotic. In fact, this one puts an accent to anything it says. It's more or less one that emphasizes intelligence and pretentiousness, stroking egos to sizes unimaginable. Well no... but its' VERY close to a New England accent. This is YOUR accent." _

"_Really?_" said Wile, scratching his chin. "Then why is it that most fans of me tend to picture me drinking "Cups of Tea" or wearing overly campy clothing with sequins? I don't get that."

" - Well, that should be obvious. Even though it was only 4 to 5 shorts, but you had a classy accent that they thought suited your character _best _and therefore, that acted as being all the criteria the fanbase needed - "

"_I'm really not surprised_," said Wile, whose eyes dropped a little. "No, I'm not. I know what it is. You paint an Ostrich yellow, they will think its' a chocobo, though it's _still _an Ostrich. If you add "Japanese" to "Russian Law, you _still _have a Marxist Totalitarian state. If you put a cowboy hat on a pastor, the pastor is _not a_ pedophile, he is _still _a pastor."

(**ZINGER!**)

" - _Wow. This got freakishly awkward." _

Wile agreed, but then the Agicalc decided, " - _But 4th Wall breaking aside, you need to practice your kicking, because that will be just as necessary as learning how to properly throw a punch. - " _

Wile couldn't vouch in that defense. "I'm not a good kicker."

" - _Just attempt it. _-"

Well Wile eagerly took up the challenge. He hunched down then sprang up as he launched a very straightforward _kick _at the Agicalc's _front_ _chest_. It hit, but it didn't really do any damage.

" - _That's very good, mutt. _- " said the Agicalc, "But _this is how a _kick is _done_."

Said kick was from the disjointed _pair of _legs, that easily kicked the off-guard Jackal about 3 miles into a mountain... which now had an outstanding crack running down the middle.

" - _Wow. He's really got a hard head. I will be astounded if he survived that. -_"

- **Later**

" - _You ACTUALLY survived that? - _" exclaimed the Gramophone no sooner than 10 minutes after the Coyote, bar his blackened face, missing two teeth, and broken bones, had recovered almost _instantly, _enough to even stand on _one _leg.

"Yeah... *_cough - WHEEZE*..." _he drunkenly droned. "_A-allow me to introduce myself, my name is MUD..." PLOP!_

Wile fainted at the base of the disjointed Gramophone who could only say, " - _Well, I'd be insulting the fanbase if I didn't do this. AHEM: And always remember, MUD spelled backwards is DUM. - _"

- **One month later**

Wile's abilities intensified, as did his kicking. The Agicalc practiced and gave him exercises to get him to _turn _as he swept with kicks, and Wile's Time altering ability had seen more frequent use. But there was on day he became sick, and thus unable to train. The Agicalc didn't attempt to push him into training, but since then it'd become extremely unbalanced for the period it spent trying to help the "Mutt" recover...

**- The End of the Month**

Wile woke up on the couch in the cave, under a large blanket. So he scratched his head, as that it not only itched, but he had a terrible _headache_. What he could see on that side was the monitors from his newly constructed space-cams. _Huh? What happened to my clothes? _

He just happened to notice that moment he wasn't wearing anything, then he sat up, frantically looking around for the machine and the set of clothes. _Where's the Agicalc? _

The question was answered in a second. On the opposite side of the couch was all of his things folded neatly in a pile and a bug on the plate. This left him feeling disturbed and... touched.

_I don't get it... did it do this? _

**Later on**

He fully dressed himself save for either the hat or the helmet. The sad thing was that the Agicalc was nowhere to be seen. Wile continued onward, and then out of nowhere did it suddenly attack.

He could see the missiles from far away; they launched at top speed. Wile's look of terror flashed before his hands went out and...

_FZOOM_

The field manifested... but the missiles were still coming, and he ran from the spot they hit.

BOOM BOOM!

He dodged those, only to see another set coming in. At Will, Wile's power _jumped _and the field manifested, this time without him raising his arms. Then without warning the missiles were close, and Wile's face adapted its trademark "Oh no" expression, and he _wished _really hard that he could just be _somewhere else..._

That wish came true. Wile suddenly vanished from the spot. When he opened his eyes, he thought he'd gone crazy and somehow teleported right onto a completely _different _spot, 2 meters away from where the missiles had _hit_. Only this time, the explosion caused a shockwave, and a blast of wind hit Wile E. Coyote square in the face, tripping him back on feet, then his back, and his coat blew in the wind as he then dug both sets of claws into the ground. He attempted strain against the _wind_!

It was successful, but now he saw _another _barrage of missiles, _in the fours_, raining from the sky. _Not again_, he thought. Once again, around him his space manifested a _greeness _that slowed down the missiles only long enough for Wile to take to his heels and _flee. _

Out of the range for the missiles to hit, Wile could hardly move and tried catching his breath.

Wile got angry and wondered wildly, turning his head: just WHERE were these missiles coming from?

But he wasn't going to be sitting duck: nearby was a large rock formation, and Wile ducked behind it on instinct. Reaching inside his coat pockets, he pulled out a small pair of binocular he personally made... but that _wasn't _going to _help _if he simply peeked around a corner and got _shot_.

He already knew it must have been the Agicalc doing this - leaving the Coyote incredibly confused; first it _cleans _him, his clothes, _and _leaves him breakfast, and _now _its going out of its way to KILL him?

Again, Wile realized, he couldn't figure out AIs. But for now, _he needed _to avoid that stupid machine's _crazy _rain of missiles- and see where it was so he could strike _back_.

But he was against a rock formation, so he'd have to climb it; he took off both his boots and started to climb (It was better this way, so that he could use _both _sets of paws) till he reached the top. He happy to see how easy it was- and know that the planets' hostile environment felt a lot like that of the deserts of 20th century Earth.

_Just eeeasy, there, Wile_, he thought calmly. _Just peek over and see where its' hiding... _

Peeking involved a _whole _lot of shaking like a tree in the wind, before the pretentious jackal peeked his nose _barely _over the edge, holding a scream clenched between his _jackal _teeth. He tasted dirt from pressing his face against the cliff. He started to think, _where's the-_

KABOOM!

Where there was cliff that the hungry coyote was hiding below, there was a smouldering break in the rock...

But luckily, Wile had scrambled like a spider to a another spot to the _left_. He didn't feel like wasting anymore time- he looked up. He couldn't _see _anything over the ledge. He could _see _plenty of desert, sand, and _mist_, he could see to the _opposite _ledge, and something that shone like a beacon under the hot sun... but it was really far away.

_I... that's reflected light! CRUMBS. That's THE...!/? _

_KABOOM!_

The next shot didn't just cut the ledge, it left a giant cut in the rock that looked like the bite marks of child eating a cookie sandwich. Wile didn't dodge it without sustaining some damage. And he _did_; but he had _no _plans on making a _weep _or a _sound_, to stay hidden.

In retrospect, having _a blackened face that singed like a cigarette butt in his face_ couldn't have been any worse. Instead he focused all that energy from pain into _anger; anger _he'd enact upon that abominable machine the next time he'd lay eyes on it.

BOOM! BOOM! KABOOM! KABOOM! KABOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The explosions echoed all over the surrounding, overarching rock walls that acted as his barrier. But they had enough impact to make the _area _behind the walls vibrate into a mini-earthquake, and rocks being scattered off the _cliffs _and send one deranged-looking coyote on the rockiest, and terrifying run he'd ever had.

_What the devil is GOING ON? That STUPID machine is switching between the sonic emitters and high impact Crag Missiles! _

Thinking it over didn't help when a Rock landed EXTREMELY close to stomp Wile. It MISSED, only landing in front of him, while he lept _straight _over the crumbling boulder _and _followed it with a _nice _roll over as he continued his desperate sprint. He grinned, and thought to himself, _I know it's both saying the obvious and completely irrelevant, but THAT was just bloody SMASHING!_

He didn't dwell on it for very long, because he was running out of breath... and _mountain! _He ran past the point where the mountain ended, and saw the missiles still coming. In FULL VIEW!

Wile's ears lowered, but he _wasn't _stupid. Instead of wasting that one moment to say, "OH NO" he kept _running_ like his life depended on it - _ironic. _

_WAIT a minute... _thought the wily coyote distantly, _Why am I running when I could just use the CHARG- No! Copyright infringement, old boy! REMEMBER THAT! Uh, uh! Okay, the "Rocket Boots", yeah, that's good. Why don't I just those, instead..._

Only Wile forgot that he left those behind the cliff, and he was running barefoot by this point-

_How CLEVER was it of me to do that? _He practically screamed at himself mentally.

It was _bad_, because he was starting to get a headache.One of his eyes had a red ring around it.

_I don't have a choice_, he decided, and felt through his entire body for that power.

FZOOOM

_I still need to come up with a name for that_. Time froze around him, and too his own surprise, it was slowing the incoming missiles- better than before. Wile took to his heels and fled.

His feet pounded right on top of the flat desert sand. The missiles were about a good distance away- he was really getting a head over them!

_I must be getting a better grip. I can now at least slow down more inorganic materials in my space! _

Though that didn't help; he still didn't see the _Agicalc_. The desert stretched endlessly, and Wile guessed that wherever it was _hiding_, it was on top of a _plane _with high altitude, and it was _probably _using a style of _stealth _he learned called _cloaking, _another interesting piece of technology he _wanted to try for himself. _

As he soon saw, he _was _right on both accounts- there was a huge plateau to his right that he ducked behind. At that moment, with a heavy _creaking _sound, the _time _freeze lifted. Both the explosions were taking place at a far away distance, and Wile was horribly out of breath. His vision was spinning, and he felt like he was about to _throw up... _

_I feel sick_, he thought miserably- but he knew that the feeling was probably only brought from the nausea that the Agicalc was _going _to kill him, and that fact hung over his head like a _cloud_. So he crouched down into a little ball around his covered ankles and buried his head in. He was still breathing in and out, in and out. _At any rate, I evaded the missiles, I... I think maybe using this power is causing the headaches. I shouldn't bother coming up with a name; it's too stupid- I mean I know its' there, though I don't know WHY, but it IS. And the more I use it, the more better it gets... I saw that! I was able to actually slow down those missiles... only long enough to get away. But does mean that the Agicalc might not even know that I'm here?_

Just the thought sparked some optimism in his gaunt, skinny skeleton-built _frame_; he could use this opportunity to take down the _Agicalc_ once and for all!

_He's up at the top of this... _he thought. So Wile started to climb the rock walls, easier without the rocket boots, though he knew if he had them, he could just rocket to the top. But then he'd make too much noise, and as he discovered he made little to no noises when climbing up _walls_. Once he started the climb, he was kicking rubbles down behind him. Both ears were lowered... and his neck was itching. He really didn't have other choice- If he took either of his paws away he'd drop, and alert the Agicalc to his presence.

Wile E. Coyote finally caught his second wind as he reached the edge; his head felt clear, and had a _brilliant _idea cooking.

He didn't see anything on the top, but sitting at the far end of the plateau happened to catch his eye. For a split second, it was all there _was_; but, he wondered, why he didn't see anything. The wind whistled from _below _and blew up from the deep west of the planet's quadrant, hitting against both the giant canyon rock... with a light-sand storm.

The sand storm didn't deter Wile who wanted to get a closer look at the object, and _he _got his _wish_, unexpectedly. The light sandstorm didn't expose anything, only that in the speedy current of dust kicked into the air there were a few loose pebbles no bigger than Wile's _claws_ that kept making a _bizzare _clanking sound in front of him, like they were bumping into an object that was unseen, but they were brushed aside.

The sandstorm died.

Wile was still holding onto a pebble and tossed it out at the "Unseen space". The pebble flew like a tiny fly, and was abruptly _stopped_. it just _stopped _right in mid-air.

Wile took a deep breath, and shook his head. "_Cloaking _will get you nowhere."

As if he uttered a spell, the veil had been lifted, and the Agicalc was fully exposed.

" - _Analysis - _" it began. " - _Increased Time _delay, _quicker reflexes, manipulation, increased range of powers to cause a secondary side effect of strained mental activity - Strategy master - using the walls as your shields - Increased awareness of out-of-place elements in environment - Confirmed - Well done - mutt - here_ - "

"The WHOLE thing was a test?" gawked Wile, in disbelief of the entire ordeal he faced. The Agicalc didn't answer; both of its disjointed arms and _flipped, _and out of the stubs a beam shot between them, connecting each end. Wile guessed it was "producing" something... but _what_?

The next thing to happen was that the machine produced a _large _rod. Made entirely out of a silver element, and at the tip was a weird looking ornament made of many floating _golden rings _that had small glowing blue orbs at the end.

Wile blinked twice and asked, "W-What is it?"

"- _Your weapon_. And also, a way for you to channel all that energy you build up - " said the Agicalc. " - _To put it simply, it's a Scepter that runs on special kind of ether energy, drawing in and releasing Quantum Particles simultaneously. - I personally made it, because I looked in the records and heard about this nice game that made such a fictional weapon - but that matters not - in the event that you passed - It is yours - " _

Wile grabbed it. As he stood it straight, it was a might _taller _than _he _was. A long pole that he needed to use two hands to hold horizontally, but one when holding it vertically, and it he felt right for taking it, enduring that insanity.

"_Thanks_, I guess..." he sighed.

" - _Do not grant me your gratification just yet - _" the machine said, now causing Wile to be on edge. " - _In two days you will fight me_ - _" _

_And there he goes again, _thought the jackal. There was something that was bothering him.

"Question. This going to be anything like Amalockh's other fanfic?"

The machine babbled, " - _NO, it's not! it's completely different. It won't be crazy complicated - It's COMPLETELY different than the other one._"

Wile sighed. "Good."

That evening, Wile was just a little afraid, sitting outside his little base hovel. He was having trouble falling asleep; but he decided to just forget it and do what would've been more beneficial. He grabbed the staff he trained into the night.

_Time Hold IS a good name. Yeah. I think I'll keep it. _

_**(**_**Note: Yep, completely different story**)


	8. Play the Montage Song to this Chapter

Wile was sleeping that early morning- but mentally he was perusing his own little _library _of events in his mind, even in his dreams.

_This Scepter is an INCREDIBLE piece of technology! And it's MINE! Aside from working and functioning like the basic quarterstaff that the Tibetans used in their training as monks in the Hindu tradition, this staff can undo things that were once _broken_! And by just being WAVED over them! It's like magic, but most certainly not, because this is science. Beautiful science... but it won't change what that machine did to me. _

_Huh... why am I thinking about that NOW? _

_..._

_I mean before, when I crashed, I felt very... well off, natural with this planets environment. Funny. And I know its stupid now, but after what the Agicalc did, I always feel more "exposed" any time I'm NOT wearing clothes... hmm... is this really how humans feel when they _don't _wear anything? The shame of it? The embarrassment? That feeling of knowing that you're being LOOKED at... the glaring eyes... I... Well... all I did was just take off my coat. I kept wearing pants all throughout as I kept... hurling myself towards solid walls of rock or focusing all my intellect into ways I could use moves effectively. _

_But somehow that doesn't feel right. _

While he was thinking this, he was feeling more awake than anything; his eyes slowly creaked open. above him the skies were growing less dark.

_I don't mean the pants or the unnaturalness of not wearing anything. Its this whole ridiculous thing where its teaching me how to fight. I mean, learning the HISTORY of fighting, and then being taught techniques are COMPLETELY different. _

_It's not that I didn't appreciate being taught how to defend myself from a machine! No! Just this feeling I had... I had more fun making contraptions, gizmos, and little traps. Yeah- there was this one time where I had a bunch of rocks tied up and steadied over a cliff, then I _released _it to crush a stray bug that entered the empty space! OOH, and Also this one time where I tried perfecting the rope trick... but that didn't work out... I always feel like there's just SOMETHING missing, otherwise the traps are pointless... wait... that's gotta be it. I need something to catch. Something that isn't BUGS of any variety- _

_But I won't know what's out there TO chase unless I get off this planet. _

_Which goes back to destroying the Agicalc. I have only today to prepare... and today's all I have left... sigh. I'm not good of a fighter, but I know I improved significantly. though there COULD be a way I can beat him besides fighting... wait. _

_... I've GOT it! _

The sky became lighter; his head was clearer now. And he flicked his own nose as traces of a grin spread across his devious face.

_I'M such a genius. _

- **The Start of the Day**

The machine detected no sign of the Coyote's bio-signature in the cave. Or the area surrounding it. But the planet was a barren one, and the number of areas where the "mutt" could've run off to in order to be completely "refreshed" were limited; so he'd have to have traveled quite a distance.

It had seen the mutt training and pushing itself to limits the machine hadn't known it was capable of. Even being as advanced as it was, the machine couldn't compute a proper enough theory to fully understand _what _was holding the _canus sapiens_, (That was the name of the mutts' species) a very carnivorous but highly intelligent animal, _together _with all that _no _fat riding his depraved rib cage like a book without a spine.

The machine assumed it illogical that a creature like the mutt would probably panic, or run, or attempt to make sure it was safe and lead the Agicalc into a trap. That was the logical hypothesis; the "Training" the mutt had undergone would not have been enough to even throw a dent at the Agicalc.

So what was the point? Even now, the machine could feel that it's own interface and connections were starting to _fail_... and it was having a hard time remembering the days it'd still been alive. Despite whatever the mutt was thinking, some of the Nano-tech in the disjointed arms of the Agicalc were starting to act independently.

The machine didn't see itself as invincible, nor did it feel any kind of uneasiness about going. But it knew that it wouldn't live very long to see the next day become the reality.

The only mystery that it couldn't decipher was why its own actions became irrational when the time drew near...

... Or why it's own seismic detectors began to detect dangerous activity levels in the southern quadrant. As it personally observed from the monitors still in the _cave_, nothing seemed out of place, (_Wile _didn't show up on any of them, again, another reinforced sign of the clever jackal's ability to be spry when it _meant _it) and the only large abnormality that could be seen from such a planet would've been the dormant volcano.

- **Meanwhile - 5:00**

Wile, hungry but enduring like he always did, had the rope he made out of the sparce weeds he found... but it wasnt' easy.

There were very few resources to be found. In the back of mind he went over _all _of his plans, (_It was like a large library_, and even he was surprised how much he'd amassed) and it was like reading a blue print. He _knew _that the machine's nano-tech would be hard to penatrate... so he'd thought of a way to just push _past _that defense.

But the grenades he couldn't afford to waste.

- **Later - 5:30**

Wile was doing "Air calculations", then planted the giant-sized _bow _against the wall

.

- **Later - 6:00 am**

"One... two... three..." Wile said, counting the number of Grenades he had on hand.

- **Later **

Wile was testing out a small contraption on wheels that had a sail built at one end, which he would blow _wind _into.

- **Later**

The cacti never looked so _real_... though, Wile knew as he proudly glanced over all 8, that was because he did a good job _concealing _their obvious _seams_ exposing a bit of red, and smelling largely of the finely ground gun powder that now stained his finger tips.

- **Later - 12:00 **

He didn't have a lot of _"wheel" _styled objects on hand, but he made up for it by practicing his "_Time Hold_". He picked up a pebble, then _threw _it, and then he focused his mind. (FZOOOM). The rock had _slowed _considerably! All he had to do was _walk _over and wait at the other end. Immediately he allow the field to _lift _and the caught the rock as it casually landed right into the palm of his hand. He did this for a few hours.

- **Later**, **Meanwhile**

The Machine, in a bizzare manner, was also preparing, by testing out its synaptic uplinks, and auto-repairing and auto-reactivating itself. The arms were repeatedly punching the wall just outside the cavern.

- **Meanwhile**

Wile bent and pressed _one _paw to the ground, knees bent, and _one _hand behind his back. He was petrified: but he couldn't back down from the exercise he planned...

SPRINT! Off he went. He started _running_, then in his _mind's _eye his entire body felt like everything was rippling around it- the Rocket Boots activated. Now the coyote was off the ground and charging at breakneck speed. His ears were lowered.

The speed he was going now was exhilarating and rocks were flying past. The wind hit his face, but he didn't squint his eyes. Instead, he _kept _them wide open, and straightened himself _up _as he then _willed _his boots to cease _the charge_ allowing him to fly.

He grinned; he knew how to use the boots, and he looked away for a moment to let the grin simmer. But by accident, he ran headlong _into _a _cactus_. The prickly needles hit his skin through his coat and he suddenly shot up painfully, clutching his backside with a painful,

"_WOOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!_"

CRASH!

Moments later after he crashed to the ground, prickly needles and all, he thought, _At least I'm not scared of heights_. _Just annoyed._

_- **Meanwhile**_

The machine gathered itself; the preparation was done. It waited inside the cavern and ran through its final logs.

As if it felt its sudden apprehension about ceasing to function, the nano-technology built into the disjointed _arms and legs _became sentient and started to build a large armour around the small source of the power... the Gramophone.

- **Later on, Meanwhile - 12:06 am**

Wile experimented with the rocket boots more, hovering over the landscape. He started practicing _safer _landings. But it wasn't easy _starting _either. He learned that he had to _shift _his weight whenever using the rocket boots, to change his _velocity_, and keep his same speed. The _next _dilemma was _jumping_..

Naw, that was easy!

Wile practiced flipping as he used the boots, but he thought it was crazy to do so... but then again, he remembered that he was a _big _risk task, and took more physical abuse than _any normal _being alive. He found several ledges, and jumped using the rocket boots, shifted his weight less- it'd be less the effort.

And he _mastered _being able to _use _own _mind _to cause the rocket boots to activate. So, a nice bonus.

**- Later The final Test**

Wile tossed a pebble into the air with a grin, then _jumped _and started _flying through the air _with the rocket boots to go after it. As he soared the coat flaps were flying behind him. But in a few seconds the tide _switched, _as he _soared _past the _rock, now slowing down having reached the height to where it'd gained enough potential energy. Now falling, and it was kinetic energy..._

He knew he wouldn't be able to catch it, so he focused and (FZOOM) his _space _manifested and _time froze_!

He _rocketed _down and landed (a little clumsily) and lifted the _Hold_. The rock was unfrozen and fell right into his paws and he clutched it. Wile stared at the hand holding it, and he grinned.

_It's mine. This power's mine. And Now I'm actually ready. _

- **Later on 7:30**

Wile didn't proceed to train any further; his best attribute, his best ability was not in his ability to manipulate the space around him and move ahead time-wise, but in what he seemed especially gifted with. He sighed and left the large desert area behind. _East_, he reminded himself, _east is where the cave is_. He needed the rest before the final day started. His mind was really much like a blueprint; he could just see what applications he had ready for things like the phoenix-shaped ship that lay ahead as his new project if he managed to beat that crazy machine...

But now he focused on what his real task was at the moment.

Wile walked all the way back to the cave cut in the deep mountains as the sun set behind him. He felt confident and completely unfazed by whatever lay ahead. More determined to get off the planet more than ever, he decided that as soon as the _sun _set, he'd make a last minute effort in keeping the Agicalc behind him one step.

The wind kicked up the sand on the desert planet, and his stern gaze didn't falter.

But he wasn't completely confident- Even with his powers, he knew it would be no easy matter trying to hold against the Agicalc; an AI with advanced technology literally bubbling at its' very finger tips, and nano-technology to easily keep it both afloat and regenerated, Wile couldn't be sure if any of his traps would work, or whatever sort of battle plan the Agicalc had in store for _him..._

Or whatever lay ahead after.


	9. Straws into Gold

**This story gets fun to do when you get down to it**

Wile wondered if there were such things as "inner demons", a thought that hadn't progressed actively to the edge of his radar of coherent _thought_.

_Demons... they're contrasted with Angels who are beings of good. Demons are evil... I- I don't really know though. I mean, if EITHER actually existed..._

But this thought ran into a wall right as Wile reached Cave Base, where he left the Scepter and the Agicalc behind. He entered. Inside, sure enough, when the path curved to the left and opened up and widened, did he see his usual, and probably last, meal on the table. The Agicalc seemed to be nowhere.

"Hmph," was all Wile could say, walking over to the table. The way that the meal was prepared seemed _less _than abnormal for the Agicalc; but Wile never made a protest, not even _once_. He swallowed it.

But as the carcass was going down the throat, Wile found that he started to have some second thoughts. He was really beginning to feel afraid. _Afraid_. _Afraid _and Wile E. Coyote co-existing? The thought sounded preposterous to him.

But to his horror, it was true; he was terrified. He buried himself between both his arms on the table and let out all the panic he'd been hiding. He even cried a little.

_I'm really afraid... though I shouldn't be surprised! I have NO guarantee this will work_, he thought miserably as he tried holding back the tears... and choking on them. _I mean, really, could this actually be my LAST meal? That machine is going to KILL me! _

He didn't know what else was there...

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

" - _Such behavior is illogical. - _"

Both of the coyote's ears bunched up, his spine threatened to jump. _It's standing right BEHIND me... _

" - _Explain yourself._ - "

He didn't bother turning around- but he tried wiping all the saline from his eyes before it could've seen it. There were times to let out the tears, then there were times to look dignified. "I suppose I've never actually experimented with the ideas of crying. But it was a test."

" - _Huh. Is that so? So do you mean to tell me that you were simply sitting in here, and broke down, not out of fear of your inevitable confrontation against me, but to experiment? What was the point of this experiment? - "_

The old coyote knew he was accident prone, but he was also _slick _when it came to thinking quick. "Hydro-electric applications of course," he lied with a punctuating lip.

" - ... _I comprehend_... - " said the Agicalc, who floated right into view of the jackal wearing the mask. " - _Acceptable procedure for a mutt - you are a hard worker - _"

"Ah, yes, so I am. After all, I am a genius," Wile said through his teeth. "I have to keep the ol' noggin a cloggin."

"- _As such, that would mean, there is virtually NO chance that you're overlooking the fact that you've still must best me in physical combat when the day begins anew following this night? - _"

"... Definitely not. I've trained. And now I am well prepared." _Like an underwater cactus, _he thought in a depressing sidenote.

"... - _Understood_. - "

But facades usually never last longer than we want them. Wile found this out the hard way by the groans he heard his stomach make. "Um..." he barely started.

The machine didn't respond.

"Very well, you don't have to explain, but," said Wile, now sweating faster out of fear than out of the intense desert heat of the planet. "I don't understand why _I _am the one needed to destroy you. I'm not good with fighting. I can't hold my own. I'm skinnier than a twig!"

" - _Backing out on your promise, mutt? - _"

"I've NEVER promised you anything!" Wile blathered on angrily. "You trained me unconditionally without me ever AGREEING or _asking _you to train me! You even attempted various times to kill me, _which seems to undermines the fact that you made some ridiculous slipshod pre-meditated mandate to "Fight" me!_"

" - _That is true in every respect. - _"

"You're crazy."

" - _A machine cannot be designated as crazy, only the customer of the Acme Corporation can be designated as crazy. - _"

Wile blinked for only a few seconds before he got the gist of what the Agicalc was saying. Then he got angry and showed his teeth. "Crazy!-? ME! _I'm _sane! I follow what is LOGICAL. The only reason I HAVEN'T gone crazy is because I _learn _my hairy butt off to avoid losing whatever... I probably _was!_" He paused for a second. "_Also _because I didn't have any choice but to follow you!"

" - _... Perhaps. But you are the only organism on the planet that has shown me what depths of potential can be reached. - Only you seem to think of yourself - _"

"Well I... WHAT? I don't get it! What is that supposed to mean, "I only think of myself"?" he snapped.

" - _I have taught you many things, but there is one thing you really should understand about when you know of someone, and they do something for you - You should consider how to show them the same measure of courtesy and patience they have shown to you._ -"

Wile fell silent, like he'd been hit hard.

" - _But a machine like me will have no more use beyond this planet. - _"

Wile was trying desperately to think of a way out, and something hit. "W-wait! M-Maybe I-I can... FIX you! You know, fix it so that you won't cease functioning and outlive past the point of your warranty!"

The Agicalc's demeanor didn't shift. " - _Unfortunately, that's unlikely. I told you before, did I not, that I was the first prototype out of Acme? In the case of human, it's no different than if a god had declared a set date of my determined death. The only thing to survive of me will be the nano-tech you will most likely need to assemble and create the parts to building your ship and escape the planet. - " _

Wile's mouth kept running like a motor with, "ab-but-I... a-ah... au... I can..."

There wasn't any lie in the machine, because the machine was incapable of lying. Wile kept thinking of more arguments, but there was no use. He imagined multiple scenarios where the Agicalc's morbid argumentative prose would topple the jackal. He didn't know what to do at this point. But he had his dignity; he didn't break down and cry. Even though his desperation to cling to life was clawing _and _scratching the back of his head like needles, the best he could've done in that time was managing not to break down in tears or just go insane in front of the machine. Instead, he said, "I _can_, but if you'd just give me some _time_..." He _slapped _himself mentally; that was the most weak-sounding, pathetic thing to escape his lips.

" - _I can understand that your desperation must be building in and of itself due to realizing the likely chance of your own demise, and wanting to save me. - _"

" "SAVE YOU"? Why would _I_... ?" the jackal gawked.

" - _Though that COULD be presuming on my part, being a machine that I am. - _"

Wile rolled his eyes, despite the obvious terrifying reality he was still dreading. "Well, it's bad to automatically PRESUME something when you don't have the obvious proof. That's called inferring."

" - _Presuming, inferring, yes. But you automatically presume that you'll lose the fight against me. - " _

Wile grumbled in response.

" - _I'm unable to process what your words are unless you speak out loud, -_ " said the machine.

"What I said was that you say what you say sounds a lot like you actually want me to win, which I find a little hard to believe. That sounds a lot like the executioner telling his victim that everything's going to be all right, because they have today to do whatever they pleased!" he yelled.

" - _I suppose that is the case, but you seem to be giving up without a fight. A profile in Cowardice, perhaps. - " _

"Cowardice?" Wile scoffed at the machine. "That's NOT what it is!"

" - _But you seem determined not to fight me._ - "

"_I'VE never said that!_"

" - _So you're saying that you DO, and you would not try to disprove yourself by saying otherwise?_ - " said the Agicalc.

Wile folded his arms and was putting on a very good performance. His body was trembling with excited fevor. "Exactly! And I DON'T presume so stop putting words in my mouth!"

" - _Okay, then, you DON'T presume a chance of being defeated. - _"

"YES!" Wile's voice rose to screaming.

" - _And you are most certainly not simply in the desire to save me only to save yourself! - " _

"Heavens no, t-that's ridiculous! If I did, I could but I... I uh, wouldn't _because _I'm going to beat you!"

The Gramophone's voice didn't lower any. " - _You mean to explain to me that you have exceptional confidence in your abilities? - _"

Wile seemed to forget he was even sweating, trying not to look like a fool in front of the machine. His thoughts kept running into walls he absolutely _refused _to tumble over for stupid reasons like his pride, that seemed to just pop out right when he DIDN'T need it the most. "Absolutely! After ALL, I'm a _Genius_. I'm _just _as smart as _you, _you stupid machine! _Maybe _I might be lacking in physical structure, but HERE," Wile yelled, pointing at his noggin, "Is a center of intelligent design! It cannot be seen as something so desperate, so _pathetic_, because it is perfection! And it just so happens to be housed by _ME_, the _smartest thing _to be seen in the universe!"

The Agicalc, had it a mouth, would've grinned crazy like it'd just won a golden jackpot prize. Wile strode pridefully over to where the Scepter was sitting against the wall, then held it in front of the "stupid" machine like a great trophy. "_Forget _even trying to save you. You're all old tech supported barely by _a Deus Ex Machina. And just you WAIT!_ I'll show you what I'm capable of! That's a promise, which you CAN'T back out of!" He had _no _idea where all the bravado was coming from, or half an idea of what he was saying. In fact, Wile had just gone on a deep end. The Agicalc didn't look intimidated not one bit, but Wile didn't expect that.

" - _I concur with your argument. As any fleshwalker would say, I reason that I am incapable of walking out of a promise. - _"

"_Bugger me, inn't the fact that you're knackered for sure!_" Wile spouted out. This greatly impressed the machine, who, up to this point hadn't really enlightened the "mutt" on anything remotely related to "British" slang.

" - _All right then. I will make preparations to be on especial guard when I confront you, mutt - _" said the Agicalc, with a tiny hint of cockiness in the tone.

The Agicalc proceeded to defuse the candle lights before all of its systems, including the disjointed arms, seeming to shut down. Once again it was dark except for the faint green of Wile's pride and genius console that he built into the side of the wall facing "west".

Wile was still standing there, slouching a little staring at the Agicalc, and his thoughts were a mess; he couldn't be sure if he'd _won _or he just lost. He let out a relieved sigh.

Then it hit him that the whole weird conversation he had with the Agicalc not only ran into a wall, but he'd been _played_. The Agicalc turned the tables on him, and tricked him into _making a _promise!

_All that build up. He took advantage of my nervousness... it KNEW I was afraid, and it still took advantage of my own cowardice, my pride, and got me to say what it WANTED. _

But he was still a wily coyote, even though the realization hit him, and hit _hard_. He sat on the couch, terribly offended in intelligence, outwitted, and _scowling _coldly at the currently "Asleep" heap of _Monster _sitting on the floor like a day passed _normally _for it. He fell asleep on the couch, incensed. He forgot that even there was a slim to none chance of his winning...

He was MAD.

**Meanwhile, in the Milky Way Galaxy, Solar System, Planet Earth, Day Thursday, April 20th, 4:30 p.m. **

His name was Sparky, and he was a real _genius_, a _mad _genius if you can't think of anything else.

Sparky was standing in front of a Console of Holo-graph displays that was 3 blocks high with tiny messages flying across the screen at super-high speeds. It hung lightly over the balcony of the hangar where the large spaceship was sitting, supported by the anti-gravity pads. (There were backup ones, too, in case of... ya know, emergencyes!) He had rough coarse hair that stood up like a bushel of weeds, and wore the thickest set of glasses to go with his pure cut needily voice, which screamed, "_All _set! _Now the quantam drive is set to work in conjunction with the psionic static nets! For catching criminals... AWESOME! although if a Quantum a equation collides with the negative positive element in the Polaris quantum B..." _

_WHACK!_

_"YEEEOWWW!" _He screamed in pain, and scratched his head, and adjusted his glasses, then looked down to see that he'd been whacked in the head with a... a BUCKET?

He angrily turned around to see Sherry Mick grinning like an idiot. The Pigtailed girl giggled and said, "_Ha, ha, _you're all wet! NERD!"

Steam poured out of the nerd's nostrils, and started yelling, "I AM SO NOT A NERD!" and chased after her, they ran out of the hanger area of the space station in the Protectorate HQ. They were running in a hallway, but the chase ended, when rounding a corner, the nerd ran straight in a wall! With a BANG!

_BANG! _he ran straight into a wall, with a loud, _painful _crippling shock, that caused him to see stars spinning around his head and his glasses go crooked. He started babbling incoherently about several time factor equations and classic electrical generating patterns involving symetry. Truly, if you picked up a dictionary and looked up the word, "Nerd", you'd see his face right next to it. But the fun stopped when the blue pig-tailed Mick came bounding back to gloat in his face that he was a nerd, but then she went cold stone. "Uh-Oh!" she said, then straightened her stance.

Sparky was going to angrily yell at her for the bucket earlier - even though it didn't really hurt - but he also assumed a straight stance. Standing before them was the raven-haired Captain Aurora Soleil, angry and holding her hands in _fists_. "Explain this behavior at once," she demanded.

"I was just finishing the final maintainence on the _Aquaeli_, Commander. But she threw a bucket at me!" he said.

"Nuh-uh!" she snapped back.

"You DID. I have the fifth scar now to prove it!"

Commander Soleil wasn't fazed and yet still in disbelief, noted by her clinching two fingers on her nose. "Enough," she said. "This behavior is not to be expected of ranking officers under me in the Protectorate. You two should know that."

"Sorry," Mick said. "Uh, I mean, Sorry, Commander, sir... ma'am."

Aurora wasn't convinced. "Try to understand, that everything you do reflects on _my _performance as captain, and what do you suppose that means?" she asked both sternly.

Both were shaking in their boots. "O-oh, that we're supposed to be..."

Aurora raised an eyelid.

"That we're supposed to be behave like we're one of the Protectorate, sir!" Sparky finished.

"Good observation," she commended them. To Mick she said, "Mick, remember that you're a senior officer of the Defense Panel on the Aquaeli, and under me. You also have a strong communications degree. Don't stain your resume like this. Throwing a bucket at Engine Advisor Magnus isn't helping your performance!" She was telling her this because it was important, and she had to be firm with Mick. Truth was, Mick was more competant than she let on and had good leadership skills. She lightened up when the scolding was done. "Mick, I would like to handle this tiny assignment and set coordinates for the Bogon Planet near Neptune."

Mick gasped, and his pigtails bounced. "But sir, usually you have the autopilot or Quantus Sembre handle that. He's good with that kind of stuff, he's the chief navigator."

"And you're forgetting," Aurora responded, "That as second-in-command, you also have to be ready to commander jobs of other people's departments when the need arises. In any case you'll be working with you need to understand, just because I'm commander doesn't always mean I'll be in control of the situation. _Well_, actually it does, but if I was tracking down _one _criminal against the Protectorate, you'll have to be prepared if a _second _is on the loose. You've been trained to do that; besides, it'll give you something to do," she said with a smile.

Mick was beaming brightly, but she coughed and put on a straight face. "_Yes_, sir," she said firmly. She knew her commander was right and she'd been trained. Plus, the T.V. was on the observation deck, she could watch her favorite soaps! "I'll be right on it."

"Dismissed," said the commander, and off she went, not skipping wildly like an immature 19-year-old. (Because in the future, Captains are being drafted at _younger _and younger ages.) She was smiling, but she still had a very firm look on her face.

Aurora turned to Sparky, who stood at attention. "Sir, should I then get back to maintainence? The Kinetic Receptors aren't calibrated enough to meet absolute standards should we cause impact against any rough or uneven surface of planets."

Aurora shook her head and gently rebuked him. "Sparky, I believe you done enough. You work yourself to the bone. It's _not _that I'm appreciative of your hard work to push for excellence- _which _totally does give us edge in aiding the defense of our outer-planetary allies -but there's a difference between working hard and working smart. You're smart, but you're working dangerously close over the line."

Sparky blinked and asked, stupidly, "Uh, wait, how far would it be?"

"Far enough to say how long people stay up to watch Daytime T.V."

This sent a light into Sparky's face. "You read my proposal?"

" "T.V. literally Rots Your Brains"," she quoted, pulling out the 10-paper pile from behind her back. She grinned, tossing it to him. "It was an interesting read. It actually enlightens me to the percentage of those who _aren't _in school and have about as much capacity for the enforcement of education and parental influence on children as an empty canteen. Very good."

"Right?" insisted Sparky, grabbing the pile of papers. "My old teacher, Miss Avery was the Head Superintendent of the Mortimer School of Snooks, Crooks, and Engineering Hooks. Now these days she slumming it next to a vehicular telemarketing machine!"

Aurora blinked and thought, rather dismally, _NEEEEEEEEEEERD!_

But what she said to him was, "That's uh, handy and intelligent to know, Arthur. But I'm _serious_. You should take a break. You want to be at top condition when we take off for the next assignment patrolling the perimeter of the Martian Continent line around Uranus."

At this, Sparky suddenly jumped back and yelled, "NOOO! I want to go to the Methane Farms!"

"What?" Aurora tilted her head like she'd been shot, and she angrily said, "Don't be stupid! How many times do _I _have to TELL you that there ARE NO SUCH THINGS AS METHANE FARMS! We're going to Uranus because there is a high probability of high ether streams orbiting the atmosphere surrounding that area. Now _please_, I'm telling you, go relax or something!"

Sparky really doubted her about the Methane Farms, but he agreed. He was getting tired, and he had a nasty chill from the idea of the "Methane Farms". _About the only thing I had this morning was two jelly beans and 3 Mocha Kiwi-Cononut Vanilla Slammers_, he remembered. The drawback of that delicious concoction was the HEAVY amounts of laxative... and $5.00.

"I _could _get online and connect with my Cork Cadets Fan Club and prioritise all the Geeky gaming cheat codes I happen to share with any two bit Gaming Enthusiast I can find..."

Again, Aurora blinked like she'd been asked to be married to a duck, but even though that thought wasn't true in any respect, she was also reminded of _an _actual one... she coughed. "Really?"

"Well it certainly wouldn't be _excelsior _if I didn't..." he said in a low voice, then perkier, "Well, I'm off! Gaming is serious business!"

Aurora then said, "Hold on a minute."

"Y-You want to join? We've never had a _girl _in it before..." he said bashfully.

Aurora blinked then said, "...Nnnnnnnnnoo?" She yelled. She turned around to make sure they were alone. "I _just _wanted to ask if you've _finished _that little task I asked of you. Do you _have _anything?"

"That?" Sparky acted like it was a very menial task. "Oh, yeah, well, this is all I could find, because when I started there wasn't a whole lot to begin with." Then he tossed her something out of his sanitary white lab jacket pocket. She caught it with a nice easy grip. She looked at it; it was a jump drive, standard for most tech experts on a Protectorate class ship. It was a device that stored data.

"Good job, Arthur."

"I didn't understand what I saw, but whatever it is, it's on there to be seen in full view... the _fragments_, as it is. But the funny story? There was an Alpha-Class holo-encryption Key barrier protecting it. Took me a WHOLE freaking night to run multiple processes and find each of the numbers, dainty little bit by _dainty little bit_ just to hack _in_. Normally, I'd leave trojans. But this stuff was so old and unguarded, I didn't meet with any sensitive anti-security protocol once I plied it open. Just like ripping away steel jaws off a Shark's skeleton."

Aurora smiled and stuffed the drive into her glove. Her next remark was stern. "I would like to apologize for ordering you to do this."

Sparky stood at attention and frowned; this was completely out of character for him to hear from his own commander. "Sir, with all due respect, I didn't have any trouble with this. I was just following orders."

"Then you'll be wise to follow this order, and deny any instance of me asking you to do it," she told him, and left him. "Dismissed."

- **Later **

So what exactly was so important on the drive? What was Commander Aurora Soleil, the most beautiful and dedicated member of the protectorate, looking for on the drive? You're about to FIND out. In some ways it's already been implied. She sat in her private quarters on the _port _side of the Aquaeli, and pulled out her personal laptop hidden beneath her desk drawer. She did her own bills here, read out her Protectorate credo like a monk, and practiced a ton of meditation. She ate her dinners alone here as well.

Most future equipment like laptops in the 24th & 1/2th Century had been stepped up to _two _forms: synaptic neuro-links, the startling innovation of laptops being _built _into a person's muscular system and being readily available through an area such as the base of the palms of their hands. In this case, customers became living retainers of data, and the only thing interchangeable was the system they were operating under. Usually, it was Windows or Mac. There wasn't a wide spectrum to be selected from... the other form was a standard laptop. Not as advanced. But this came with a little thing where you could put in a drive, and mini-donuts, which she gave away to Mick. These were in greater abundance and way cheaper. Aurora owned one as a way to keep a diary, work on her assignments without distractions, update on statuses of planets her crew patrolled, and plan out enemy ambushes, assaults, or code hacking. It was the closest she got to a good friend.

As she put the drive in, the window appeared on screen. It was funny; sometimes she didn't even know half the things that happened on her computer, but she learned that by using something so many times, she'd ended up doing it out of habit without purely thinking about what she was doing. Arthur's drive was a library of folders with... _Game _Titles on them. She wasn't interested, but she thought that he could stand to expand his hobbies _outside _such a thing. What appeal was there shooting a silly fake electronic gun at a fake target when there was the _REAL _thing?

_I'll have to sort through it_.

Soleil was set back; there was a ton of information, but did Sparky really know to keep it so that she could find it easily...? Of COURSE not! She taught him that the best way to hide any information was: footnotes in papers, and folders in folders.

_Scoreboards For the Number of Times I didn't Have Pickles on My Sandwiches_ was the name of one such folder. It was the last place anybody bother looking. So she zoomed right in. Inside was an unmarked folder, and in that folder she browsed a messy-looking news icon, no bigger than her fingernails and had the title of _March 12_ written on it. _Could this be what he found_, she was thinking.

She double-clicked the _March 12_ which enlarged to show an out-of-date black and white newspaper. Then she brushed back her hair again, getting more curious with every passing second.

She didn't know much about what she was getting into. Aurora heard weird rumours around the office since her 20 month "swing" to the top of the rankings in line for Commander of a Space Fleet. Rigid, caring and sly, minky Aurora was clutching at straws.

_Straws? _she thought. _I've clutched at BALES. Bales led to the capture of the 1st side of the Mafioso Brothers who terrorized the Carpet Industry. Combusto, number 1 on the Fireworks maniacs list! And then of course, that whole cadre of Martian guard-bots. Ordering Fried Chicken. _

In any case, Aurora's experience after _9 years _with the Protectorate was the penultimate proof that straws won her medals. She _pushed _till those straws turned to bales, then bales whisked into gold. Her incredible insight, melded with that iron determination to catch criminals, and devotion to her job was all the evidence she needed to tell her that no truth was inescapable, or hidden, that she had earned the title of "Second-most Decisive Commander" in history.

Aurora was reading the newsprint, breezing through all the muddled words that couldn't be made out even with her computer's contrast.

"_March 12,_" she read out loud from her laptop. Her brain was working amazingly quick. "This was about 5 days before Dodgers _had _been released from his stasis. There was another event which had been scratched from Protectorate Records at the Cryostasis study lab. There was _another _subject who'd been released _early _from his own chambers; only _this _was unauthorized and Professor I.Q. High hadn't been present. The hardware, such as one of the chambers containing the inferred subject, was reportedly malfunctioning, and broken. Shattered. _Shattered_," she repeated.

_That's all well and good, but that doesn't tell me anything_, she thought. _Oh look_. She was looking at the right side of the document. She also discovered that this paper was done in secret.

"The cost of this secret project was well over $300,000,000 astro-dollars," she said, and she thought she'd just lost her mind completely by reading that estimate. She _must _have; and at the same time, her mind wildly wondered, _Thirty-millions worth of an experiment had somehow escaped the Cryolab and security only picked up on their heels after it no sooner after it exits the doors at the ground base. Wait... there's some article on Pickles here... eh, not important. _Although that was weird in the fact that thinking about pickles made Aurora hungry. (But she wasn't a heavy burger eater... gotta watch that weight!)

_Crown _all, Aurora still didn't have anything; she knew this: something escaped but _what_? The cost was huge, and the release was unauthorized which could have meant A: The Protectorate's computer had automatically disengaged the stasis of the subject in the chamber- she was going on a huge hunch here - or B: Someone with enough smarts to run one giant, organized system had planned on this subject being released, without anyone being none the wiser... and _that _hadn't gone as planned.

Aurora's mind worked quickly, as she kept collecting more _stray _strands of straw. And the more she grasped the more paranoid she felt for doing this, especially around the backs of most of the members in the Protectorate. _I just don't get it... what is so secret about this? What is the connection? Who is this subject anyway? _

She minimized one window, then opened up her internet. She was just as good as anybody with searching archives; it her little hobby besides catching criminals.

"I'm positive I've heard about $300,000,000 being tossed somewhere before," she said. As her search narrowed, she was right - always reliable, Google was, after 3 centuries.

She was looking at a web page on a site, a very, _very _old one that had the filthiest looking design she'd ever seen, but a ton of information to make up for it- _Quantity over Quality_, she was thinking. Even after 3 centuries the site was _still _up and _running_! In bold letters ran the title, "Grossly-estimated Government funded Project"

When she looked at the status of project, the cost was a flipping $300 million.

"That's odd. There were no other projects with this much capital backing it in the 20th century, let alone something backed by the government. I wonder if they're... related... ? And also... why am I... _talking to myself_?" She was beginning to think she'd gone a little _daffy_. _What time is it? Oh... it's 3:00. _

She read more into the project. She was surprised this was publicly accesed so easily... didn't the 20th century have a _stabilized government? _What idiot would be just allowed to _leak out a gross misappropriation _of 300 million?

Her answer smacked her faster than lightning. The further she read into the summary of the project, the less believable it was starting to sound.

"_Government project at a local School to create a device that would hasten the progress opening a wormhole to an alternate dimension_, but backed solely by a third royalty party that made plans to retrieve a powerful material. College genius, eccentric ... project was abandoned but the papers for the clean-up were not turned in."

_I don't believe it, _she said out loud in tone that truly confirmed she didn't believe. _Alternate dimensions? Materials? That's just ridiculous! _

On the other hand, she was forced to remember that this was the "Space Age" and spaceships could fly faster than the speed of light; it only _sounded _abnormal because the age in which this site was constructed that she was _reading _from was the 20th century-

The theory of Lightspeed travel didn't become a reality until the 22nd Century, when man started to make friendly ties with the_ Martians_. That didn't exist as some fairy tale dream anymore, unlike things such as "Alternate Dimensions" or "Wormholes", it sounded too much like a bizzare Sci-fi. Lots of people, particularly good ol' America, were less than enthusiastic about such a thing. They thought the same thing too about Lightspeed travel, but now it was a genuine reality; it had a reliable _source_, a person at its start.

But just where had the source for the idea to create a _way _to open to a completely stable hole, if that _was _possible, come from? Or more specifically, _who? _

A person with enough smarts to cobble together quantum physics and make equations work to their advantage... he'd have to be a real genius. One who'd hobbled right onto the outer edge of the Government's radar and snatched their attention in a heartbeat... a person who'd have the technological know-how to make and turn any kind of material, element, into a contraption that does what they want it to do... A person like that would have to be worth millions, a brain child they would unconditionally send supplies to (And create a hierarchy that acted like a relationship of one dependent on another, whereas the supplier would manipulate the receiver), without any fear of checks bouncing back to them _because _they would still benefit.

Aurora had gained _plenty _of information from reading alone; that and she pieced this: a brain that could create anything _worth _300 million would have to be the same person _worth _that much to another group of people in positions of _higher _power... and _frozen_.

But there were no names written on the page, and no _pictures_. And she was tired from leaning her neck out, so she put away her laptop, and stretched out on her bed in a few minutes. Her eyes closed.

_Something about all of this feels familiar... but I know how to straighten the facts so far: the one depicted here as the inventor and the one she read about being frozen , only to conveniently escape- they were one and the same. _She was certain the rest of the crew wouldn't mind if she took a small rest. Her mind was at a standstill.

_I need to remember to get that drive back to Sparky._

She fell asleep, eyes and body weary, and her goal set to investigating the rest of this possible "Conspiracy" on her own, and undetected, ingrained into her mindset like a soldier.

_- _**Meanwhile in the OTHER Galaxy, On the Unknown, Unnamed Planet That The OTHER MAIN Character is ON, The FOLLOWING Day that comes... AFTER this one... in PROGRESS... right now... RIGHT this moment...**

Wile finally awoke, but he didn't feel great. He knew what today was, so there was no need for overmilked summaries in his head. It was dark except for the holographic green console. Wordlessly the jackal started getting ready.

This was the day.

He was stillfaced, eating breakfast, and was stillfaced as he put on his boots.

_Being outmatched in muscle, fine. I admit that. _

He put on his trenchcoat, pine green, with slow dramatic tension; even the buttoning was a little overdone.

_Nor am I made of metal, nor am I that great at fighting._

Next he slipped on the belt and tightened it. There were little pockets with matches stuffed in them. At first he thought they were useless, but he knew how to use them. Much like the awesome helmet he personally built for himself. Which he put on.

_I might be a bit pretentious and thinking only of my own safety. I might even be cowardly... and hate pickles. _

The last thing was the Weird Scepter, which he grabbed. Then he turned to face the entrance.

_But I know this. I can build AND dismantle machines. I know my way around traps. The complexities of mechanics are at my fingertips. And honestly, the task of dismantling a sophisticated piece of electronic educational equipment with a tendency for loquaciousness sounds like a NICE little walk in the park for me._

Then he left the cave, scowling.

_That thing crossed the line by outsmarting ME. I will take nothing short of great pleasure in beating the (boop!) out of that machine!_

- **Out in the Desert**

There wasn't any mistaking it; the Agicalc was waiting for him.

The machine could could see _him _as easily. For whatever reason, The Agicalc didn't seem to get any closer to Wile. It was backing away. The Agicalc was floating _away _from Wile.

Wile understood it wordlessly: There was more space out in the desert to do battle. His scowl didn't disappear.

Eventually it got the point where the little cave Wile lived in suddenly _ceased_ to be in view, having disappeared below the horizon. The floating gramophone and Wile were out in the middle of nothing, hard messed up, sand around them, rocky landscapes around them, seen _faintly _in the distance, and dark orange sky under what looked like a dying sun.

He never noticed _that _before- Wile stared up at the sun as he walked forward: _How dumb _was he to never have _noticed _that before? In the LAST 9 years? He learned that the sun was a star, and stars _did _age, and this sun of the galaxy seemed to be older than dirt. It must have reached a point where it was going to _end_ soon.

Ironic, since the Agicalc would cease functioning even if it killed Wile, or _was _killed by him!

The Agicalc ceased _drifting _away and remained _still_, as Wile approached him. But Wile kept a cool head and _gulped_; that was the best kind of impulse the brain could trigger, because _somehow _it'd dissipate all that building anxiety he was stomaching down.

They were only inches away from each other. A blue light shot from the base box, that was a scanner, but Wile wasn't intimidated.

" - _You know, mutt, in ancient places like Japan of the 10th to 17th Century, they did some corny stuff called "Staredowns". - " _

"Staredowns?" Wile asked, curious.

" - _Yep. My database says that this was done between two warriors, usually samurai wielding ridiculously sized swords as some kind of act of overcompensation, to build dramatic tension before a battle to the death. - _"

Wile rolled his eyes. "I... _suppose? _What exactly are you driving at? Are WE having a staredown?"

" - I'm not _built with eyes. I am only able to "see" you because I scanned you from WAY back in the beginning of this story. Your bio-signature, DNA specifications, that's capsule-sized tasty knowledge to me. But enough of the trivial things. We are having one, technically. Cause this WILL be epic. A staredown is what we and the readers shall get - _"

Which lasted all but 3 minutes before the screen split into 3 distorted images of Wile E. Coyote in a dramatic pose. "Okay, this is getting weird. My face feels up close to the T.V. screen, like a tiny speck, and like my body's being looked at, but not my face, which is cut off depending on the kind of Television screen a person is seeing this from! I'm pratically waiting for my "Messy Hair" of determination to start flying out!"

" - _Heh. Yeah, the Japs do that too. - " _

"Except I'm all rough _fur_. I don't HAVE any hair!" Wile explained.

" - _NEITHER do I, because I'm all WOOD, plastic and some kind of... freaky chrome nano-technology stuff... ness. Enough talk._ - " said the Agicalc, whose disjointed arms assumed an awesome _cross-pose, _the hands raised up, 3 compartments in the arm with missiles,and the legs began twirling spin-around of the rings surrounding the gramophone started going at a faster _speed_. Wile held up his own Scepter and his hands began vibrating _wildly. _The camera then cuts to a close up of his face, which accidentally hits him and he goes, "OW!" before he gets focused again.

_FLASH (_**opus Dissidia**_) _

Opus or _no_, Wile found him running from multiple _brlightly _glowing little projectiles that were hitting the skims of his boots and he was barely evading them. He jumped - the projectiles were aimed _higher- _so he had to move further away or jump. He jumped!

BOING! Instead of Jumping further away, an enraged Wile E. Coyote dove right into the fire, then sent a fist at the floating machine- Only it raised one of its hands up like a shield and blocked the hit. Wile hurt his knuckles and clutched it painfully, and backed off. The Agicalc continued its' assault by raising an arm out and "Holes" appeared at the tip of each metal "Finger". Projectiles started flying out, but Wile clutched tightly to the staff and he heard the _FZOOOM _of his power suddenly jumping to life! The Bullets were slowed down- _barely_. He jumped out of the way- then proceeded to start _running _like crazy. His field _dropped_ and the Agicalc was now chasing him- but Wile's sense of direction was acute- he started running straight to the _west _then skipped and ran further south. But he had to dodge and _duck_...

_PZEOOM_

_PZEOOM! _Because the the machine started to fire more blasts, some that hit Wile in the shoulder, making him grit his teeth. He bother looking behind him; The Agicalc was not too far away...

_Time to try the 2-stepper_, Wile tried not to scream in his head. Approaching from the distance was a prickly cactus, 3 of them, and he started looking down at the boots he modified, and so once he _ducked _another blast, he _jumped_.

_WHIIIIR_ the rocket boots came to life, and now he was gaining one _over _the stupid machine. But instead of trying to get away, he ducked behind one of the cacti- the only problem was, he would've felt the prickly sensation, but there were no _needles _in the back.

The Agicalc shot up right behind the cactus and shot it, fully aware that the jackal was behind it, but as it _did_, Wile ducked from right behind to avoid something, and the machine had no idea _what _until- _BOOM! And then it triggered a chain reaction on the "Cacti" nearby, cause THEM to go BOOM-KA-BOOM!_

Wile rolled safely on the ground then shot up ground his pressure against the sand- just as the smoke from the deadly explosion became clear and the pitiful machine cleared the smoke- via an artificial vacuum of air Wile saw it making by... _spinning _around!

_Aw (boop!), it's a smart machine, start running! _

That would've been the _smart _thing to do- Wile started to (And began to remember something else about his past: he remembered that he must have done a _lot _of running. He didn't run out of breath like before!), but the machine floated to an even greater height and teleported _(More like jumped at hyper-speed, Wile guessed) _right in front of him, and didn't waste another second and _lunged _an arm at Wile like he was holding a sword. On instinct, Wile raised the Scepter and _blocked _the hit- poorly! Because the machine's arm was _too _quick and "shifted" below and sucker punched the jackal in his tight gut. In recoil, Wile didn't attempt to counter and let himself be painfully flung all but 17 yards over and hitting the ground in a terrible _crash _that would've shattered his bones.

Wile's strong will kept that from happening, even though he felt miserable, tasted _dirt_, and wondered if the place he was kneeling looked suspiciously familiar.

The eyes bunched together and his nose dipped; the machine was not _lagging _and _one _of those synthetic hands was transforming mid-float! The fingers _folded _and melded linearly with the rest of the frame, becoming _blade-_like. Looking _sharp... and dangerous_. He gulped, and his stomach growled in deeper frustration. His head began to _swim_ and in another second, the machine would be over to _cut _him like _fish_.

Yes his mind had gone limp and almost numb with the image of his hard flesh and aneamic form in bloody pieces. For a few seconds, until the hand started coming down and Wile concentrated- _FZOOOM!_

The time "Hold" was once more active, but the attack was still coming down, and Wile whipped out as soon as he could, and on his feet he jumped back then raised one foot to kick up something he saw hidden in the sand (_That he remembered setting up yesterday _) and it was a giant _bow_. Though he didn't have an _arrow_, and _that _was the plan. Wile took advantage of his own _skinniness _and hopped right on to the shaft (The "Hold" was still in effect.) to act as an _arrow _himself, then grabbed the string he was balancing on himself and pushed back. He bent his body to the _knees_ then _released _the "Hold" simultaneously as he released the hold on the wooden bow, and _launched himself _like an arrow. _Success! _He was thinking. And he was dead-on... as he hurled himself right into deadly machine's fray. If he hit, then he'd struck right at the _center _of it, that _annoying_, ugly-gramophone_-heart_.

He raised a fist and his his lip flaps were flying over his _face_. The time hold completely lifted, and Wile was only seconds away from the Agicalc, now pulling back its fist upon seeing the deranged looking Coyote 1 second away.

_SWIPE!_

But Wile missed!

Instead his fist met the ground while the Agicalc freely floated back with alarming speed, and the instant that Wile landed both eyes were wide with terrible fear as one of its' disjointed limbs came straight up and _POW! _RIGHT in the _"kissa". _But Wile STOOD his ground against the hard blow to his chin, but didn't have time to recover _from _it. And again that distant thought on the horizon about the Agicalc's advanced pre-calculated ability to topple him regardless in any regard like fighting wasn't too far off; the machine launched a series of strict, inflexible _shots _at the Coyote's face, _left- RIGHT- left-RIGHT- _till the miserable genius jackal sported a nice black right eye from the rotten abominations' insidious _left _jab. The machine backed off; Wile wiped at his chin and drew mixed blood/saliva, and he coughing it in _troughs_. Wile's hopes went past the dwindling point.

But the sad thing was his pride insisted he go for it; so he DID!

Wile ran at the machine. The right arm flew at Wile, who calmly remembered all of his "training" with the Agicalc... in a super-wavy flashback effect:

"**D-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-DGE!**"

And dodge Wile did. The first shot Wile dodged, cleverly using his "Hold" to a minimal extent to carefully and quickly slow down its punches. He dodged by slipping to the side, his back to the arm then _flipping _right over the arm and launching a _spinning_ kick (Though it wasn't easy, Wile found the task was forcing strains like he wouldn't have believed on his own body) at the gramophone _base _but- _no good it blocked _that! The only good Wile accomplished was denting the _shield_! But he didn't quit. He jumped back on his feet and again, the machine came down on him, _from behind_, with a hit, and Wile sprung right out reach causing it to missed. But instead of trying to hit it, the wily jackal ran _past _the Agicalc and tossed something _at _it over his shoulder.

The Agicalc couldn't calculate such an erratic move till it saw _what _Wile was tossing _at _it. It was a _handmade _grenade and...!

_KA-BOOOOOOM!_

The Agicalc, not infuriated nor disencouraged, had almost dodged the deadly explosive, but not without suffering a few smears on the floating disjointed arms.

The machine turned to scan the area for any bio-signs of the mangy mutt, which had to be _nearby_. The clever canine was making use of his suroundings, and objects he'd placed right where he lured the Agicalc.

It found him. He was hiding behind some of the loosely structured rock formations on the northern most side. It went over. Now it was really going to light the skies; the machine's fingers formed to a gun- then sent 5 rapid shots that _blew _up in a cinder-massive explosion. _BOOM! _but there was _more_, the Agicalc blew several more rocks...

_Ka-BOOM!_

_KA-BOOOOM!_

All the rocks close to the bio-signal were obliterated, and vaporized, creating a _strange _mist that the Agicalc floated in the center of the clearing where the _blasts _had been... it was illogical, if the mutt had been hiding there it would've been obliterated and turned to dust, along with the rest of the rocks, but its reading said that the _mutt_ was STILL around and still alive!

But if that reading was correct, the fact was the machine couldn't _see _it. The world had gone silent... and was it getting _dark _overhead? It didn't predict any kind of precipitation-related phenomena on this _planet_...

An abrupt _noise; a swift turn around; _Wile, only seconds mid-air was in full view right in front of the Agicalc for only a few precious seconds before- _FZOOM!_

The mutt vanished, and the grenade was being tossed right into its' face.

_KA-BOOM!_

Okay, now it actually feeling some "Turbulence", just a smidgen.

Wile, however, began his descent just as the Hold lifted, and landed graciously deactivating the rocket boots, and _running. _He could already tell the machine was behind him, and he tossed another grenade over his shoulder- KA-BOOM!

The next couple of minutes were a little confusing to Wile E. Coyote, who's ears were lowering in trepidation.

The Agicalc's monstrous form appeared in the mist and the darkening clouds overhead- the remainders of its' repeatedly being bombarded by the grenades Wile used.

Once the machine, limbs and all settled on the _ground_, it spoke in the most cold, mechanical voice you'd never heard:

" - _Enough of the GAMES, MUTT. - INFERIOR __**BIO-ORGANISM**__ - DO YOU ASSUME YOURSELF OF EQUAL STANDING TO ME - ? -_ "

Despite the overbearing and obvious themes of crazy Mentor-kills-prodigy feelings Wile was getting, his fear had just super-ceded it, in the wake of hearing that machine's voice grow more erratic, infantile, and monstrous. One of his eyes had a _red _ring around it and he couldn't _stop _shaking his knees, petrified. The thunder on the horizon didn't make it any better, it increased the terror by factors Wile couldn't fathom; this was like a scene out of a nightmare, or a fanfic. (_It must have BEEN, _otherwise, Wile didn't see this planet's bizzare barren atmosphere showing signs of precipitation anywhere) To crown _all_, Wile held up a sign that said, (_Oh... $#*!_)

And the second half started.

The machine rushed over and an arm _swiped _at the jackal's _gut. _Wile didn't have time to concentrate, and felt another terrible blow to his hard flesh as he was sent flying. Wile crashed on the ground again, feeling the severe pain all over.

The jackal couldn't handle any more; he coughing up more blood in the _beating_, and wiped his mouth, and his eyes gone even wider as the Agicalc was coming over.

_Oh Mommy..._ he thought.

Describing the next two minutes of a brutal beating by a machine on a wily, skinny coyote would be a bit too gruesome. As would the next few minutes where the Agicalc rapidly pulled back and the bulk of its form started to lop on its "back side" and the arms and the legs assumed a cross shape. In the center of the cross "Bits" of pure _energy _were forming and flying out like eagles. The bits started glowing very brightly till they started _firing _lasers that traced along the ground... and coming at Wile!

_Lasers. It had to be F*#$ING LASERS!-? _Wile was screeching in his head, till his more basic instincts demanded that he pick up his heels_ at once_.

The lasers were hitting the ground with impending force and Wile concentrated. (_FZOOM_) but even though he was gaining faster past the lasers, the lasers seemed to be unaffected. Wile took this shock with obvious rage. He let go of the Hold and started screaming, jumping and dodging this way and that to distance himself from the lasers.

_Can't dodge them forever_, he thought helplessly; but the next idea came in spades- Wile pressed a button on the belt he was wearing and in seconds another light came speeding across the horizon, just like he planned. In the bizzare time frame of same speed, the Agicalc "phased" right alongside the coyote with the lasers jumping _dangerously _close and it turned its' synthetic arms to a giant funnel with blue lightning crackling inside it just as both of Wile's legs were about to give.

Oh, and thunder Wile kept hearing earlier was booming more loudly than before, and the world was getting darker. And the blood pooring out of his mouth wasn't really all that serious.

But now his trump card was coming into play. A very thin platform on _wheels _zoomed straight on in- faster than anything, Wile expected the temp-rockets built into the sides to last for only _so _long as he could formulate a final battle plan. He hopped onto the _board_, it's bizzare curtain fluttering in the wind and blown crazy. Of course he had _no _experience riding one, but damn if it wasn't ridiculously fast, powered both by the wind in its sails and the extra-ground-up refuse he used up! Imbalanced, the board was definitely carrying Wile without him expending his Hold and the machine, equally and _fiendishly _fast, was _flying _on Wile's tail. Nothing but sand wherever he was headed, the jackal looked _bald-faced _as he was cruising along the Highway to hell itself.

Again the _machine _launched a volley of punches that Wile, despite hurtling at what could've been 100 miles per hour, was dodging by the dumbest luck he was drawing. A LEFT- Wile twisted out and punched the Gramophone's _center_, but no good as _it _dodged his attack at _lightspeed_. A _right, and Wile thought ahead enough to flip, grip the ONE sailing _pole and turn the gyrating sail around as he sent a kick to the armor on the attacking arm- POW! But to no avail; The machine launched its own while Wile E. Coyote kept dodging and _ducking, _left-right and center, under no circumstance wanting to feel the all horrible wrath of the machine...

Two things happened: the _trail _of lasers seemed to have disappeared, and the board gave, and the both of them crashed onto a small scree. They, both of them, smashed into a boulder as the board suddenly went BOOM! taking _more _debris with them. Wile's world and his head was _spinning_, just _spinning _and he couldn't tell what was up, left, down or UP, and it was really annoying and he lost focus, but not completely as he started up the rocket boots.

The bottom of the boots started up and sent Wile, still clutched by the _neck _with both hands of the Agicalc were still hurtling through the sky, then they made loop-de-loops in the _air_, _crashed _REPEATEDLY against large Rock platforms- Wile kept _kicking at the Agicalc _and in his head he was _just screaming _obscenities I can't list and even as his opened his mouth he recieved a volley of brutal, unbarred punches that came close to _tearing his face off_.

Both the jackal and machine were spinning high into the air, now thick with moisture and thunder coming down even _harder_. Wile, gone crazy from being beaten senselessly, thunder booming in his ears, the Agicalc literally at his _throat _and trying to kill him, _and _pushing him and forcing his "hold" into play, and just its' UTTER sickening superiority, and the world _spinning, spinning, _spinning and his cries unheard by no one other than the abominable machine straight from hell, took out his _next-to-last _resort, a Grenade he was keeping behind his coat. The second the Agicalc dropped its guard, Wile shoved it blantly right into its' _floating _rings, detonating it in front of its face. Wile knew it'd be caught off guard, _not _having anticipated that Wile would deliberately risk his OWN self to actually damage the machine at close range!

_KA-BOOM!_

But sadly the mangled body akin to a corpse was hurtling back toward Earth and would collide with several rocky platforms in a catastrophic _crash_; but Wile felt _nothing_ besides the hate. Besides the hate of the machine he'd grown numb. Very, very numb.

_BOOM_

_BOOM_

First face first, leaving a bloody impact. The second time, some of Wile's sharp teeth had been knocked out and add to the humiliation he let out a sharp puppy-like cry. When Wile finally reached the point where his body ceased _crashing_, he didn't feel like _moving _again; he couldn't move even if he wanted to, because the stupid machine broke all his bones and he was in crippling pain that was just like if his body had been lit _on _fire, and there was _no _way to stop the burning.

His face was turned on _one _side, and he was crying- one arm was _bent_, possibly from when that _machine _kept jerking his arm, deliberately slammed Wile's skull against that hard synthetic _metal _of the arm. Which didn't really hurt, but Wile could imagine that if he ever lived through this he'd be seeing _stars_ for the rest of the week.

_Funny... I'm in pain_, Wile thought with one wide eye and the other blackened eye twitching. _And somehow I think this has something to do with Jack Nicholson... huh. _

The thought didn't help the mood any, and the Agicalc suddenly arrived, it's advanced and powerful nano-tech smeared in _black_ after the terrific shot of Wile's grenade. Wile had to hand it to that _machine: _both he and it took an _explosion _to the face.

But Wile's strength was _spent_, he couldn't move. Which made it easier for the machine to use one of its' arms to hoist the fragile _jackal _up by the _neck_.

" - _Great job, mutt. Just great. But I don't think it'll be enough. I've beaten to the point where you can't even more properly anymore - that is a flaw with you organisms. The key difference here is that YOU are always hungry and look like a walking, talking skeleton, where as I'M a machine if perfect design and superhuman capabilities! Your efforts are worthless and ineffective. DEAD. Very, very dead. - _" said the Agicalc, as its' second arm, the one that wasn't hoisting the pitiful coyote, turned into a solid five-_barrel_ gun.

Bruised, battered and broken Wile E. Coyote groaned and... and smiled. But the Agicalc didn't see the reason why it _would've_...

"_I'm... sure I had a clever line for this exact moment_," Wile struggled to moan.

The Agicalc's mood shifted into maximum MONSTER. " - _OH GIVE. IT. UP! YOU ARE IN CRITICAL CONDITION! I COULD POP OFF YOUR HEAD LIKE A CORK! - _Maybe. _If I FEEL LIKE IT! Probably. - WELL, THERE ARE A NUMBER OF WAYS TO DO IT! - _"

"Bully for you. By the way, I'd start counting before you get fried."

The Agicalc didn't know what it was talking about until it was too little too late.

_FZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT-CRACK!_

_CLANG_

_CRASH_

Once the machine fell, the grip lessened and Wile dropped to the solid rock with hard thud. He didn't move again.

An hour later and Wile opened his eyes and wondered if he was dead; it was pretty infantile to think, he knew, but God knows there was nothing else he could've done, so he did a mental inventory.

His heart was still beating, he was taking in _air very slowly_, and his the first thing he ever saw was the black clouds dominating the skies...

_I can't believe that I'm still alive after that whole beating! That's far too implausible! I MUST be dead! _

Wile was confident in this fact, he failed to notice that he seemed to have ignored the fact that his brain registered the pain from his twisted arm. he tried standing up, then automatically squealed in agony, and if he'd the strength, he would've curled up into a ball.

_Oh no. Wait. I can feel pain. Pain means I'm still very much alive. I'm sure if I was really DEAD, I wouldn't feel like 5 miles of bad road... in a TIN CAN! _

It was a long time before Wile could move his limbs again. Then _again_, it would have been a _long _time before Wile could fully recover _completely_. All he could think about was the pain; it sounding less than a good thing to know he was still alive. Yet, his mind drifted to another question- what happened to the Agicalc?

Some weird sound reached his ears- what was it?

He recognized it: it was the _sound _of electricity crackling... weak, and spaced out into many unrecognizable segments. Wile turned his head and he was shocked. There was a number disconnected parts, _browned _from having repeated grenades thrown _at _them, all in a messy heap with parts blown atop of them- and there were splintered _rocks_ everywhere around it and ON it- right where the Agicalc was.

Wile, gathering up whatever strength he had left crawled over - he was feeling a little stronger- if _battered _wasn't a better word.

He got a good look at the monstrosity. There were 2 rings that had been severely weathered down and there was the gravel-encrusted demon gramophone lying on their sides- this was definitely the Agicalc.

" - _Mutt. - _"

The jackal gasped and he quickly backed off. The thing was STILL ALIVE.

" - _There's no need to back off. You've beaten me. Fair and square. _- "

Despite what it was saying, the jackal bared his _teeth. _He wasn't taking _any _chances, that was for sure. (To his disappointment, Wile discovered he didn't have anything left to use against the Agicalc.)

" - _You can keep your distance and be angry. You deserve it. I must hand you a benefit of the doubt, as the organisms who built me would call it. Being able to cleverly and deceptively allow yourself to be hit so could implant an electromagnetic discharge bomb the size of a fingernail on me could only be designated as... ingenious. - _"

Wile (blackened face and all) was still infuriated but he breathed out, "- "Benefit of the doubt"? Don't you really mean... *cough* glimmer of _respect_?"

" - _Ah -_" said the machine, whose synthetic voice was getting weaker. " - _touche -_ "

"Benefit of the doubt," Wile explained, with some shred of dignity. "Is when you relent on rebuking someone who may or may _not _have intentionally committed some form of off-"

" - _Hey, I'm DYING, I never said that my program was completely wrecked. - _"

"Yeah, how can you _still _be alive after the EMD shock?" Wile asked.

" - _Don't be so doubtful. I told you. You won. The EMD has caused my program automatic termination to draw even nearer. To the point where I can't function anymore. - _"

He didn't understand why, but suddenly Wile felt sorry for the machine. Maybe because in its' own crazy way, fighting the jackal was the machine's irrationally-developing individuality taking form at the last possible second.

" - _Simply put, I would be very near to the door of death. __- "_

_"I'm _surprised... is what I would say but you're the machine designed to know everything and teach it," Wile said.

" - _What surprises you? - _"

"Your poetry. "Door to Death"? You could read that in a Shakespearean novel."

" - _Heh. Good show, mutt. - _" the machine stopped talking for a minute. more fizzles of electricity crackled like a dying fire. " - _Pay attention to what I have to tell you. You've earned this. - _"

_Earned what? _Wile wondered in extreme confusion. _What is it...? _

" - _The most precious gift given to man and machine alike is the idea of information. How developed you are alters the way you can dechiper information. Whether between a man and a woman. Between two friends. Between people of high status or in business. Or between a teacher and its student. Do you know what that means? - _"

"I know that you put knowledge to a good use," Wile said quietly. "Otherwise, what's the point?"

" - _Good answer._ _As a machine, I only know what I've been programmed to know. So it's not my job to try and decipher information but to know what I can do with it. And DOING something with information you have is just as important. The armor plating of my disjointed arms and legs, made up the nano-technology will most likely evolve and become the materials you need to get off the planet... - _" The machine was slowing down, and Wile felt like it had more to say, so he felt more desperate. " - _In three days. - But I'm not done. Do you understand, mutt, why in the last 9 years of your non-stop lessons we discussed nothing about your species? That's because there wasn't anything in my databanks about your species. Nothing. Well except for one thing- Jackals have been extinct for the last 3 centuries. As to why and how, and who or what caused that, that is unknown to me. My calculations have led me to this conclusion: you are probably the last of your species_. - "

I'm sure there are moments where you get bad news and _somehow _turns out to be the worst you couldn't imagine in your own nightmares. Like a mother being told that her baby is _dead_. Or being fired from a job, or watching a friend die. Or maybe you've probably been crushed by the news that you were going to die in a few days and no one would be around to hear it, and worse! You have to hear the news from the LAST thing you wanted to hear it from! Saying you were crushed or upset would be a terrible understatement - you feel just as destroyed as you would've felt if someone had shot you in the chest or stabbed you in the back. The crippling ugliness of the news would've turned your limbs numb, your vocal cords mute, your body a hollowed shell, and sent you glimpses of a hell from where there's no salvation, no glory, and no future.

Wile E. Coyote was sitting there speechless and didn't feel the wind blowing against his rough cheek. He reached that level.

" - _I can't understand how you feel. And I apologize. - _"

" - _I am... sorry. I am so... so... sorry. - I'm getting weaker. - ... I know this won't make things any better, but... given the planet's axis and rotation in this galaxy, there's a high probability that planet will crash into the dying sun, and be obliterated in the course of two months. You need to escape. - _"

The Gramophone's cone was crippling, as it gave its final message.

" - ..._ I don't have any feelings about death. Nor can I be afraid of it, because I'm incompatible of fear. This may be weird to explain to you... but I hope that you will like-minded as... me... and... do... the... sa- sa- sa- sa- sa- m-m-me... _- " The hardwire and the electricity flickered into a blip, just like Wile's sanity when he started screaming.

The cone and disc broke off. the machine stopped whirring as the box collapsed in on itself and the wind-up handle snapped. The machine in the gramophone was gone.


	10. Planning to Get Off

**Yo. Yo buddy Amalock here to tell you that this story is SO much easier than the Gothic I was working with! But I've got projects to worry about so laterz~**

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3 days came and went. Wile E. Coyote, detached mentally, and physically from his environment, hollowed out, _lifeless_, and _crushed_, sat naked in the cave. Alone. A fragment of the energy-infused armor from what used to have been the Agicalc hardware sat on the table.

He didn't question anything anymore. He spent many any hour staring blankly into the wall, listless. Occasionally did he fall off the chair from miscarrying his trembling hands, and he hit the ground. But instead of getting up, his mind swam with the permanent image of the inactive _Agicalc_, paralyzing him like a creeping chill. So he crumbled into ball and shuffled himself against the wall, whimpering, for the whole day. When he started to cry he would try to suppress it, but started having bad hiccups.

The following day was no different. Except, the estranged lonely jackal lost any reason to cry. But he wasn't thinking anything at all; he sat in silence, drinking in the nothing, and buried himself in his arms. And when that didn't completely ease him any, he thought through his options... NOT thinking didn't seem like a proper way to deal with anything. This was what he decided. For him, _thinking_ seemed to act like a mendicant. Not thinking was no different than feeling like he was dead.

He was alone on the planet _again_, but he was better off knowledge wise. The Agicalc finished its' 9-year function as a Learning center, and learn _from _it Wile did indeed. It's large volume of collected, and stored archive of information had _not _been wasted.

_It was much like a portable teacher... _he thought, feeling sad. _I learned so much. That knowledge didn't go to waste_. _It even gave me parts I could work with and build, like the Juggernaut, and that bow... and the rocket boots... and the belt... and that holographic generator, which was how I got clothes for myself in the first place. And I also made the console to display the cameras, the ones I launched myself straight over the world so I could monitor it._

The cold seemed to weigh less heavily on him- but he stretched out his legs, and closed his eyes and rubbed his bandaged head. He was right: keeping his brain active was a little comforting.

_And then... then... _ he stopped thinking for a moment; his head and only working eye turned to the large pair of black metal robotic legs sitting right up against the corner of the wall. The ones that had claws at the end of the feet- It was the one thing Wile didn't finish.

Wile remembered what he planned to do with it: the robotic legs would've come with a metallic, high defensive torso, and _flexible _arms to hold objects, to carry and throw them. The number of gadgets it could hold would come with the jetpack he installed, activated at the same as the _wings_ that would spring out anytime the suit was activated. It was a prototype, and Wile planned on using it for hunting -

_But hunting what? _Wile asked himself.

All the thinking he'd done and he never asked himself this; it sounded crazy.

He knew what he was. He was a carnivore- at least _some kind_, and probably the _last _of his kind.

When he thought of this he shivered and tried not thinking about it, otherwise, he would have simply broken down and cried.

_I don't want to think about it. Not THAT. Not at all- _

To distract himself, he thought, _I'm still alive though. I bet that machine using just about every tactic that was possible! And slipping in an EMD when it wasn't looking... that was genious. And I should know; I AM one. _Priding himself for thinking of it, the jackal bolted upright...

"Ow..." only to shrink back down again in _nasty _pain that came from his bandaged arm. He forgot about that. And the cold stone wall.

Come to think of it, the very fact that Wile could've slipped in anything innocuous on the Agicalc was nothing short of an accomplishment- but that machine would've easily detected it, and taken it off. Wile pondered this; maybe the machine had already _known _that he was planning this... but did _nothing _to stop it, even when it had Wile literally hovering inches away from what would've been a fatal blow.

_Maybe that machine really was developing a reason or some form individuality of its own_, Wile reasoned, and he knew he wasn't too far from the truth. His last nine years of _lessons _that gave him insight into everything part of the future entailed this strange and unlikely theory... _If it was really aware, that the disconnected electrical loops of processed thought had really not been the products of its original programming, then maybe it was trying to escape this by dying._

_Dying_.

_But I just don't get it. I DON'T understand at all. _

It was an unresolved mess- one Wile knew he had no time to worry about at all. His head, still throbbing, still covered, along with his right eye, in bandages, was spinning just thinking about it. He got up, and pulled a chair in front of the console.

There was no doubt about anything the Agicalc said- but that didn't make Wile feel any less confused. _I don't have the time to feel sad anymore. _While it was supposed to be reassuring for him, it didn't help any, given the problem he was _now _facing.

As he surveyed all 3 monitors the planet seemed normal- but as for its' interplanetary axis, Wile hadn't determined that yet. _All I've ever known was that I was stuck on another planet in another galaxy... because I learned that the shuttle I hijacked seemed to have made one final boost of lightspeed that went uh... faster than the speed of light, sent me hurtling out of the Solar system. _

Wile typed on the console with poise and ran a scan from Camera 1. But the system was very flawed and came with a weak signal.

It was random thought that seemed to come out of nowhere, but Wile, nor the Agicalc, had ever known anything about if the planet had a name like Earth. Then again, if it was in another galaxy and completely remote and out of place, then he was probably the first "Alien" to be walking on it. _I don't think it matters if I came up with a name for it- because I don't like the prospect that this planet will collide into a star and be destroyed in two months_.

_Two months_, he repeated. The ugliness of that timespan dawned on him. _Two MONTHS! _That didn't leave him with a whole lot of time!...

The flat monitor finally pulled something up. Numbers danced across the screen- it said that the planet was about 45,300 km- almost triple the diameter of Earth! In fact, Wile could see that this planet was of the exact size, shape, but opposite the _composition _of another one of the planets in the Sol: Neptune.

Either way, it's mostly desert landscape reached 6.33 x 8 km. And that was just the surface. Wile didn't know how many layers made the planet or how far it went- but he wasn't looking for _that _information, only how he could tell for certain if the entire planet was on a crash course.

Eager to find out more, Wile started sorting the unnecessary information on the screen, his hands trembling... and he was feeling cold- He was coughing badly.

He found the answer on the screen; but he didn't like what he was seeing.

For whatever reason, the planet's size and weight was daunted by an even greater anomaly, a swirling _black mass the size of 2 planets. _Theoretically, he surmised, it could've been a Black Hole. A star that was about 10 times the size of anything in a universe, upon dried energy reserves, would become once Gravity became the ultimate acting force, crashing it into itself as an _atom_.

The rock was ripped from its previous rotational axis and hurtling towards something.

Wile's spine tingled, as he became more terrified- because he sent a command loop to one of the cameras that looped over the "Face" of the planet, not all that far from its' equator, but passing the point of the planet marked by a long streak of the _miniscule _watery feature. Instead of seeing _that_, the lens looped _away _from the planet, which took about an hour. There was a massive blackness almost 300 million parsecs away- the distance _between _them _dwindling. _From all sides, he could see large fragments of _rocks _being drawn towards the massive blackness, some that so atomic in size, they could've fit under his nails, and asteroids ranging from continental size to unlike those of mountains he climbed. There was such a wavy nature to their being sucked in, but Wile began to see what he dreaded.

No Black Hole could endure sizes that would've eventually collapsed in on itself- if it was sucking up whole planets, and the one Wile wanted to be off as soon as possible, then he was in for a real threat.

The search results ran to kilometers- well up into the millions. But this black hole, this amorphous _thing _that was swallowing bigger and bigger random objects was _growing in size._ A supermassive black hole would raze whole planets into atoms. No doubt, Wile wondered, it was like a mouth, a _giant _one, going out of its way to _feed_ and feed and satisfy its _hunger_.

This planet was going to become its main course in two months. As Wile kept staring at that omni-consuming blackness, everything started making sense; the clouds were darkening, he was feeling the unbelievable cold freeze his bones- no wonder he had to keep getting up and jogging around to stay warm!

"If I were to hazard a guess..." Wile said out loud to no one but himself, and there was a shiver in his voice. "I... I think that the "Sun" I've been seeing this whole time was really the absolute _center _of this galaxy, and now it's... wait a _minute _I already KNOW this. It just seems to have happened faster than I figured it would. But the Agicalc told me this as if it were absolutely aware of it. I just didn't worry about because I was close to death."

It was true, though ironic that the shame was brought on himself. He was afraid of the impending doom, but he was more angry at himself for not being actively on top and _aware _of it to begin with.

At once, Wile E. Coyote thought of the Agicalc and its' final words, and the stirring broken, half-emotional plea it made to tell him to escape the planet. Its half-hearted attempt to simulate a real human emotion was all for naught, though its message did not certain fall on deaf ears.

Wile didn't mope any longer and began to _plan _his escape.

- **The following Week**

Wile held up the blueprints- and it was cold. For the first time in 7 days earlier that week did he step out. The far reaching effects of what the black hole had on the planet were externally obvious. The skies were obscured by nothing but black, and there was a biting cold wind. Wile could barely stand it! (There was the underlying fact he was as skinny as a stick.)

For most of this time he'd only ever seen desert, desert, and hot desert air coupled with arid, dead orange skies. Funny how a Black Hole can change everything- Wile jumped back, let out a high-pitched squeal, and looked like his head was going to twist off. A flaky, cold feely _white _thing started falling from the sky. It had tiny symetrical holes, was almost _see-through. Wile's _keen eye spotted the nigh microscopic 6-fold shapes embedded in.

There was more of them! Possibly well over the entire landscape. Wile thought, _Oh, NO! THE AGICALC'S CURSE! ... wait. _

He remembered his lessons and deduced it was rain... though _frozen_. Frozen white droplets? That _did _sound familiar to him...! But what did the Agicalc call it?

Wile let out a great sigh of relief when it was clear that they _weren't _lethal; this became obvious when he didn't see one of these frozen droplets of water hit him in the head and he spent the better part of an hour screaming in terror and running around naked save for the bandages around his head and the left arm.

The abnormal weather patterns he was seeing, caused _snow _to fall on the planet!... and those frozen droplets were what the Agicalc referred to as... "Snowflakes".

- **The following day**

Wile took a deep breath dived back into work. It was made easier by his disassembling the Juggernaut he personally made. (If you're wondering, he found a whole store of dead Bug carcasses the Agicalc had left behind for him that he discovered upon a 6 days after its death)

While it did pain him to break down what had to be one of his best inventions after being on the planet for so long, his survival was on the line. What he _didn't _understand was his thought process in leaving a number of miniature bombs inside.

Wile worked like magician and his hands flew to pieces as he stuck them on. The clamor easily outweighed and sharpened his mind on where each piece went as he started to create the base for the cockpit.

On that note, the jackal went back to the cave at the end of the day to retrieve the items he was looking for: his clothes, and the holographic console.

He pulled each item on with great difficulty, starting with his underwear- because his left arm hadn't completely recovered yet. Since he was working in a limited timeframe, he actively kept moving the arm to get the blood circulating through it. The last was the _helmet_, which he rigged to a metal "belt" around the neckguard of his coat. This would allow him, by simply pressing a button on the side, to activate it.

His next dillemma would be tougher- installing the console he built as the ship control. The console had an energy battery set straight into the wall (Courtesy of help from the Agicalc of all things) that was a self-sustaining fission core. Wile carefully but quickly dismantled it, and the _large _neon visualizer that allowed him full view of the entirety of the planet via the three cameras he created.

The next couple of days saw Wile's right arm getting stronger_._

The world was really changing in front of him _as _fast as the Nano-tech the Agicalc left behind. Wile didn't even recognize it anymore.

Poety he heard that was used on earth would describe was a barren, chilling tundra blanketed in _snow_, a misty wonderland where the sky is always a terrible pale white and the snow drowns out the frivolous noise of the soul and the voice of the ground.

... _Actually that was what he wrote in a rare afterthought _inside the cave. He was well done with the blue prints for a very primitive prototype of a space shuttle by this point.

For comedic effect, Wile's various attempts to safely attach and adjust the batter to the bottom of the base ended up with occassional shocks to his body. But he didn't let that slow him down.

- **2 Weeks of Progress **

The juggernaut's parts, largely the metal plating it was made with, had been unnmade. Wile knew the time was getting nearer and his ears kept fluttering upwards to the air because he felt something like a faint suction lightly grazing through his rough fur. But getting nervous didn't help; he stayed focused on his work, now taking shape in a seed shaped pod with wings.

Statistically, he figured, he had about a zero in a million chance of successfully creating an engine powerful enough to both launch off the planet, penetrate the rapidly disintegrating atmosphere, and sustain stability long enough for him to reach the Sol.

Being a super geinus however, Wile didn't believe for a second it would fail- and he was only going to have one shot. This became more evident as he sat in a narrow control seat of the Seed-shaped pod, screwing in the operations panel and a manual-stick shift operating system. But the best feeling was getting to see some progress done.

"Because after all," he said to himself, "I'm a genius." He warmed up on the inside and his mouth curved into a wan smirk.

- **The Following 5 days later**

If anyone asked, the biggest pain in the keister for Wile E. Coyote was creating the wings- but he counted himself unbelievably lucky that he was now holding onto a limitless supply of the nano-technology like a chunk of rare rock. Wile felt himself so lucky he could've kissed that rock! Not literally... of course.

He didn't build without understanding. He studied the nano-tech faster than he observed while building using them. The sheen was a dark blue color; it had a cool, echoing tone bursting through it. It matched the chilling environment, and cold air.

For hours Wile toiled at cutting the metal, but instead he kept accidentally cutting at his fingers, just _scratches_ on his fingers. Impossible as it sounds, Wile, at the edge of the world and once more alone again, now felt more alive, _enflamed _if not a better word to be found, working with something his mind was trying to understand with a _passion_. He was smiling, but he was still _scared out of his wits_.

- **The Following 5 days after**

The system was ready. Wile was happy to find his arms fully healed, both eyes fully healed, and _his _body still thriving. The cold didn't discourage him. In fact, he felt more sharpened than ever. The last thing that had to be done... well actually it was _already _done.

The interior of the yet-to-be tested pod was wide enough to encompass two coyotes, if possible. It was only _one _room, but if his caculations were right, the pod he now possessed as his only escape was the size of an Earth automobile, and had half the weight. Besides the Scepter Wile was still carrying, there was the matter of the now fully completed robotic armor he built sparingly with the leftover parts he scrapped.

The armor was finished, as was the spacecraft. Wile E. Coyote stood at the entrance of the cave where everything for _him _had began "Seeking knowledge-wise". He learned, or at least knew enough about everything, to adapt and try to survive. But he wasn't sure it'd be enough; his hands trembled even if it was cold and it _wasn't_... his spine chilled at the thought that he was leaving behind a doomed planet.

He worked day and night because he couldn't afford any rest. Wile had gotten good at it; most of time he would spend collectively holding together pieces with his teeth and screwing them in or onto the surface of aircraft with airtight strictness.

The wiring from the batter to the control panel was almost done, allowing him to use the Holo-console and the dual rocket thrusters installed into the sides of the ship. But all Wile needed was a jumping platform. If he wanted advanced, he have to spend a serious amount of time chasing after more highly sensitive equipment, hardware the likes he could only imagine, stuff that most likely came with some kind of "price". According the Agicalc, the universal currency of that time was "Astro-dollars". Wile thought it could've sustained a better name.

He wondered if he'd have to do something in order to actually earn this thing called "currency". Maybe he'd could put his skills and talent to a use make it work in his favor; that seemed like a much better alternative to just "aimlessly" wandering the universe acting much like a _vagabond_, hoping he'd eventually reach that _place _somewhere along the sphere he had no memory of calling "home".

The cave had been emptied of all but what Wile decided he didn't need anymore; he was back in shape. It was the end of the _first _month- and the pod was half finished. The system that composed his holographic keyboard had been reinstalled as the regular operating system in the spacecraft (Which by simple _through-thinking _on his part, he gave the _name, _"Wolf" instead of "Phoenix" like he originally planned) was set up, though flimsily, and he built in the wings. The reinforced _glass _shield was built over the piloting compartment. _All crafted from the self-growing materials the Agicalc left behind._ By months _end_, the planet went from a scorching desert wasteland to a freezing heap of _rock_.

He didn't once consider using the "Hold" because he thought that it didn't save him any time. Wherever he was going now if he got off this _rock _he'd have plenty of time to practice. His spacecraft, the Wolf, needed coordinates, or he was going to fly into an endless void- That seemed to have dampened his spirit a little: He wouldn't make it to the Earth unless he knew for _certain_ that he was en route to the Milky Way, then the Solar System.

Wile E. Coyote did one- last- thing. For his own personal benefit. He sat alone in the cave wearing his designated "signature" outfit since the "Material Generator".

Again, Wile E. Coyote was a genius; from the Agicalc he learned of the thing Earth had called alcohol and fine wine. He didn't remember any wine in his past because there was a hole in his mind where the mind used to be; silly! He could retain information and remember everything he learned, he was adaptable to any circumstances and he had this "glorious" power right at his _fingertips_. But he couldn't remember his own history. And now, virtually almost all glimmer of evidence pointing to it were supposedly gone.

He removed the helmet.

But luckily when the planet was still _dry _and unaffected, he practiced the making of wine _under _the Agicalc's instructions. He made 3 bottles. It wasn't a very strong wine, it was a bland, fruity-tasting liquid (Where yet again, the semi-omnipitent Agicalc created artificial plants and berries for Wile, mixed in with the water from trickling little reservoir he found.) and he picked _one _of the bottles. (He made the bottles too; out of clay that he'd been instructed to let _harden _out in the sun.)

The Cave was cut so deep into the mountain, that the inside felt like a warm insulator. The wine was untouched by the cold of the outside. There were 2 lit candles. He sat at the table with one of the bottles. He started drinking the bottle down- _but _only in _small _gulps. Never _big _ones. He didn't wipe his mouth. His mind wavered between being clear and blurred; but he didn't stare blankly at the walls like they were _nothing_. Because he wasn't _nothing_. _He'd _grown up; he'd grown up strong. But even strong men cry; there was no shame because he understood he had reason.

_If it were human or organic, I wonder if he would've cried for me. But its attitude was always snarky, and it kept around me only because it was doing its job. I shouldn't even feel sorry about it. And yet I am; it was like a father to me. But I bet it would've called me an emotional ball of fidgety flesh if it would've seen me cry. _

When he finished the bottle, he did just that. He remembered the Agicalc. He breathed _deep_ in and out and remembered the Agicalc. He remembered like his _mind _was a fresh sheet of paper with every single word of his life written in. He clutched the bottle and remembered. He remembered because he was smart- _smart and proud. _He wouldn't fail.

He held a sharpened reverence for the machine; He thanked it from the bottom of his heart. He would escape the planet for both of them. He cried for the Agicalc.

* * *

**Well, yeah, its unbelievably sappy, and I wanted to bring some closure to Wile's story on the planet before the BIG finale where he escapes and starts out the REAL Adventure, AND ITS ONLY just the beginning... The chapter's purpose was pulling the character out of the "Slumpy Angst Phase" into the "Desperate Genius Understands he's a Genius and Wants to Preserve himself and NOT GET sucked into a Black Hole by using his Genius to his advantag Phase", then becomes the "YOU'VE EARNED MY RESPECT MACHINE! I WILL MAKE YOU PROUD LIKE A DAD WOULD BE TO HIS SON Phase". At this Point? Wile is probably over 50 years old... in Human Years~ hence the scene where he drinks his own homemade wine, its appropriate. And don't worry! He's got plenty of time left! He has almost another whole month, but bad (BLEEP) will go down as month winds down. **

**Not to be a "Spolier" but yes, there is more coming. This chapter will become the Bridge into the next phase! **

**Compared to what I working on before in Gothic literature, this is **_**very **_**easy. Very EASY! I'm having fun! **

**On the subject, I will randomly choose to mention some little thing here. I have 3 Cats and one dog at home. Except the Dog is relatively young because he's been here for what? 6 years now? He's our energetic replacement for my other dog who used to be around, but isn't anymore... because... well... he got old. He aged and he died. But the time of his death was back when me and my mom and my sister went away to church. By the time we got back, Twelvester was in a bag. **

**... **

**Well THAT got awkward. You ever get carried away talking about something? Cause that gets annoying and people tend to ignore it... **

**... **

**Am I still ranting? What the heck! Are there ACTUALLY people out there reading this? LOL. I'm in disbelief- Okay, seriously, Amalockh, SIGNING OFF. **


	11. Escape

**Guess what's about to happen? That's right- IT happens. But either way, expect unwelcome periods where I'll randomly cut to something that you didn't expect to happen in order to explain some things you probably will~

* * *

**

In one month the entire chunk of doomed planet was going to be devoured by a supermassive black hole. larger-sized boulders were flying _up _and away from the planet, now sustaining less and less gravity. Still the planet held itself in together; such large scale de-atomizing took a great amount of time. And in order for the destruction to be thorough, the core would've had to have been silenced. Wile buried himself in his work to ignore all the commotion.

The tipsy, slightly burning coyote was sitting inside the vehicle, typing on the holoboard.

"Setting the auto-pilot to disengaged... oxygen levels normal, temperatures ranging below 0 - 30 degrees celsius..." he muttered slowly, trying to make sure he'd remember. He reached up and pressed 3 buttons right on the left top side which he built in, with wires that also ran down to the battery. In front of Wile and before the _glass_ screen beyond which was a heavy fall of _snow, _the Holoscreen appeared; the cameras _were useful. _Wile could see from all around the ship in 3 screens. He just hoped they would stay online if when he lifted off and when he got to space.

As he stepped out of the vehicle and looked above him, he saw, among other things, the Black hole still there, and still only millions of miles away from the planet; it was like standing underneath the mouth of a hungry lion. Now he felt the same as he did being stared down upon by the Agicalc.

Wile went back to the cave retrieve the Metallic scrap, and had a pleasant surprise.

The scrap of metal was shinning and seemed to be growing to a bigger size than before. As Wile approached to stupidly touch it-

_ZZZAAAAPPP_

But the blackened coyote wasn't deterred. Instead he slipped on the gloves so he could touch without being shocked. So he held it, and it was _heavier_. That was just what Wile needed to make the motor, even though he seriously doubted it'd work.

- **Later**

Wile grunted pulling on the handmade wrench then releasing it when the bolt wouldn't tighten any further. On the table was now a ramshackle-looking motor, with working hydraulics and a carefully carved incisions Wile painstakingly made for the remaining wires in the Wolf to go once he installed it onto the bottom of the ship.

"I can't believe I got it to work!" stated the hysterical Wile, skipping up and down like a little girl.

- **7 days later**

He was at the end of the first week of the second month. He had everything hooked up, but other than the holographic visuals and the keyboard and the secondary thrusters, he couldn't get the motor to work! Again, Wile stared up at the Black Hole looming _closer_.

And suddenly his underwear felt wet. He gulped.

- **another 7 days later**

Wile E. Coyote had bloodied hands... or it was the homemade Ketchup, probably, creating coppery-feeling electrical adapters to attach to the inactive motor. How stupid was he to not realize, he discovered, that wrapping bandages around a motor wasn't going to work?

Nor was using the homemade wine, apparently, when he emptied one bottle. Anyway, he screwed in the motor and cut out a piece of the haul on the original ship so that he'd have open access to reach in and use both adapters on the motor.

"And _this _time," he said to no one in particular with a bizzare sense of pride, "I'm _wearing insulted gloves._"

Except that the coyote's knees couldn't stop shaking, so he ended up stating, "C-c-c-can't stop... _shaking_," so he set out to fix the dilemma and took off his gloves. He grabbed both knees and stiffened them. Then he forgot to put on the gloves and when he reached down...

_ZZZZZZZAAAAAAAP!_

Yet again, the Coyote was blackened all over after the Painful shock wore off. But it took him a second before he yelled, "!"

- **The Following Day**

Despite that bit of a comedic slip up on his part (Wile: &#* _You, AMALOCKH!_) He did in fact connect the adapters to the motor and whatever bizzare highly advanced technology lay within what he carved from the Agicalc's self-growing "Nano-cith" (Which was what Wile christened the element).

He safely closed off the motor from the rest of the ship. He surveyed the wires that he hooked up from the controlling panel, down to where the motor would be available. "Here goes nothing," he said, pulling the lever next to the control button. Then he pressed the button; everything hinged on this moment- and it would prove whether or not the motor will work in conjunction with the controls. It HAD to!

_WHIRRR _came a sound from beneath the makeshift seat- it was the sound of the motor, which made the sly jackal whose eyes had gone from tired to fiery hysterical _grin _with a self-satisfied sense of accomplishment. _It works, it works! _he screamed over and over in his head.

But now coming up was the final test, which didn't seem to daunt him as much; getting the thing to _fly_. _Now_, he reminded himself, pressing several buttons as he did so, would come the ultimate _test_. Time literally seemed to slow to a standstill, even though he wasn't causing it through his own powers; a lump formed in his throat. On his right was the meter which would jump to _red _once the thrusters were activated.

Time to give it a go. He knew that given the planet slowly losing its gravity and being nearly encased in _snow_, (Of ALL things, he would've expected _ice!_) but if he didn't lift then he still had to face the threat of the Black Hole. _Worse_, was the weight capacity of the Vehicle, now supporting just _himself_, the yet-to-be-finished robotic armor he started _building_, and the Quantum Scepter.

He built the robot legs out of the thinnest materials possible, provided by none other than the _machine_. So, he calculated, they shouldn't pose any kind of threat possible should they have slowed down the shuttle's speed. But there was no time to think about that now. Only AFTER he got off this planet and managed to make onto another hospitable planet where he could be _finally _at peace to work and/or _hunt _as he wished for real meat would he worry about the robotic armor.

Wile started the countdown as he reached for the left control stick. "5..." He grabbed the _stick_- "4..." beads of sweat formed around his head and dripped down his malnourished, hairy neck- "3..." His heart was going to _burst _out of his chest and the sweat beads either landed down his army _coat _or running down his armpits. "2..." The "Wolf" was generating enough heat to melt away the snow on the glass, and Wile had a clear view of the _entire _landscape, covered in sickly, dead snow, and now _Ice _was fixing to rule the landscape- _Please don't explode, stupid motor!_ he screamed, his tongue flicking out and swallowing the bead of sweat dripping off the side of his nose-

"1!"

_CRANK!_

At one second _nothing _happened, but then with a _FZOOOOM _the wings shot out of either side of the Wolf, and with a loud _RRRRRR _the thrusters were fully alive and fully operational. The space craft was starting to move! It was trudging through the snow though thanks in part to the wheels Wile built into the bottom. Once or twice Wile _jerked _and let out a scream, because each time it happened... the craft would take off a little then land back down with a rough crash. Thankfully he could adjust how much air the wings could carry, by a simple adjustment of the manual toggle he built in; made possible by his incredible natural strength. This made for better results; the wings could carry more air, and once the thing had fully lifted off, he manually turned them back to their regular position. Wile's mouth dropped open: There was nothing but sky ahead of him... and he began to feel sick despite being overwhelmingly _happy_. (Characterized by a grin on his face, his _lips _being _blown _back due to the incredible velocity his craft was _gaining_, the pressure and shaking on the ship, and his signature left "Red ring" around his eye whenever he's like, you know, petrified stiff whether in the face of knowing he's about to be hurt, very, very, badly, or he's eaten a good meal, but _here, HERE, _it was just different)

The test was successful. But Wile had to descend, because unlike any of the times where he activated his rocket boots, he was _going _way further than he originally planned- and he was _sick_ from all the turbulence- _and _he wasn't ready just yet. So, operating the control _stick_, he turned that puppy right around and... felt even more sick! (At this point, throwing up came close as an understatement.)

When he started out with the rocket boots (Too _confining _though, he realized he did prefer just running around naturally with his paws!) He'd seen the crust of the plannet from massive heights. But the sun was _killer_ on his back and pressure on his head, forcing him to descend at any sign of a slight heat stroke. Here, possibly thousands of miles high in a Spacecraft that had successfully (With _slight _manipulation due to his absolute _genius_) superceded ALL of his dimmed expectations and made the desperate coyote scream with delight, over a planet that soon after 3 weeks would be obliterated in a gigantic black hole and because of _said black hole_'s influence caused a shift in the Planet's unnatural desert weather pattern to that of _snow_, _ice_, and blizzard, Wile's face went green, so one gloved hand flew to his bloated, nauseated _face_ to cover the mouth.

_Unbelievable, _was all he could think of. He was in too much awe... and nauseation, to properly pontificate on his one-seat _view_. _This is... is this how all the people of the 24th and 1/2 Century ARE when they set into the seat of spacecraft and leave a planet? I mean, I only MADE mine because I wanted to get off the rock that was my confinement by a psychotic machine with a faulty individuality forming at its core, so I could get back to Earth_. _But despite all my genius, I'm TERRIFIED. I'm so far up high here. Only minutes away from breaking the atmosphere, but all this exhilaration is going to make my head spin off! _Really he did feel like somebody was twisting his neck. So he jerked his head back, to hear a _crack _in his neck, and also took in a DEEP breath; it made him feel only a little better.

_Slightly _a little better; but now his nose was flipped up right in front of his _face _as the spacecraft started to fall back down at equal the momentum he went to go _up_. His vision was _clear._ He could barely, _barely _see the entrance to his makeshift _home_, and aimed to go to the visible line he clearly made in the _snow_ and land there.

_If only I had a way to SLOW DOWN THOUGH! _he wanted to scream. Immediately, his head rang with a DING! Like somebody had put a lightbulb over his head; how could he have been so stupid? Certainly not because he had a _brilliant _idea cooking. He concentrated-

_FZOOM_

Like the line in the snow, the _"green" _field manifested around his entire space, and the ship. Time seemed to _slow _down around his entire _space_. But he pressed further. Instead of just himself, the field extended to the outside haul of the _entire _ship, wings and all.

_It's working! _

Though, even more so than he liked. _Way _before, the "Hold" could only allow him to manipulate the time around his _own _space, which he readily used to his advantage in the fight against the Agicalc. Now it seemed, his power was _growing, _and...

_I can affect machines too? _The thought had a welcoming wonderful warmth with it till Wile shook his head and decided that, _No, no, no, NO, that would be too easy. If that WERE the case, I could affect any object I wanted. I don't know, maybe boulders? But, NO! No- if anything, It's not so much the Wolf or me. I think if the "Hold" can allow me to suspend time in my own space, then its' simpler to say then my being actively using a prototype craft like this is... maybe the Hold is slowing down the speed of the Wolf. It's the only logical explanation to be had. _

And he was sure that had to be it. Even as he was thinking of this, the Wolf had reentered the atmosphere at an incredible slow rate for a good while and Wile, still concentrating, was steering the wheel away from _hitting the ground and crashing_. The shuttle didn't crash and Wile's landing, shaky and very awful for his first time. With a _thud_ he touched the ground, and he was still in one piece- but _why _did he suddenly feel like a hive a peruvian mutant fire ants was infesting his _brain?_

This happened shortly after the Wolf had come to a complete and FULL stop. Wile released the Hold. But he collapsed out of his seat and with an overexcited hysterical clamor, scrambled to the outside of the vehicle, and met _cold _fresh _air. _And Cold snow, because he started dumping his head into the large bank of chilling snow, eyes wide open like they were on _fire. _It accomplished little behind quieting the "party" in the lanky jackal's head, but it was like dunking his head in a bucket of water, with similarly refreshing results. Wile fell to the ground with a _PLOP!, _and his raised his knees and scratched his head. _OW! OW! OOOWWW!_

That "dunk" in the snow was what he needed; he put two and two together.

_It's just like last time. I'm not stupid. This power is giving me headaches the longer I use it. But it seems to be improving. I can slow down machines and simple objects like pebbles! But if I keep pushing I'll get a HEAD rush. Ah... the headache's dying. It's gone. I feel better, except for the whole fear because of the black hole soon to be swallowing up this planet in the next few days things. Either way, the longer I use "Hold" the quicker that headache will come. So I just have to limit how much I can use it when doing stuff like that. I mean, what I did back up there was just stupid!_

That noted, Wile had a minute to just let his whole being cool off before deciding what to do next; which was actually,

"BUUUUULLLLLLLLLEEEAAAARGH!"

**The last day**

Again, Wile sat inside the Wolf typing on the console. His workplace had become the ship.

"These estimates _show_..." he muttered impatiently scratching his chin. In sum, the Agicalc warned him that the planet would dissappear in two months. But he _strongly _doubted the planet itself could hold it together for even that long, especially _since _the black hole was titillating at a heavy frequency- his highly sensitive ears could feel the geo-seismic waves like annoying _buzz _over his ears.

That was what he was afraid _of_.

_If there wasn't a better time to ship out now, I don't know WHAT is! _

So Wile E. Coyote reached the collar of his neck for a button, and pressed it, causing his helmet to appear over his head with a _WOOOOSH_-

He jumped into the Wolf, and closed the doors. He didn't have much else to do.

Again, Wile set everything up, and prepared to launch the ship.

Outside the of the Wolf, everything was already starting to split apart. Though it wasn't as fast as the Agicalc had calculated, Wile kept this mind: the complete destruction of the entire planet was going to be drawn out well over the course of a few weeks before it completely disintegrated in the Black Hole. The intelligent jackal couldn't have picked a better moment to split; he gulped, his spine felt like a freezing ice pick, and his mind, save for the helmet he was wearing, had gone numb.

As did his limbs, which seemed to move mechanically on their own.

_I'm going to have one chance to do this. ONLY ONE. CHANCE. So I'm not going to dwell on that utterly retarded thought or... be just stupid and sit here expunge myself on the plan. I know what to do. What I'll do is run this vehicle at top speed, on a full linear path around the planet to build momentum, and create a situation where the soaring velocity will cause a heavy dynamic shift in the Wolf's acceleration, lifting me off the planet and creating a "Sling-shot" motion where I will be shot FAR out of the reach of the planet's and by extension, the Black Hole's, heavy suction of gravity, whereas the only thing I will have to worry about left, is ascending the atmosphere like a magnificent great phoenix. _

- **8 hours In. **

What was amazing, no sooner when Wile made the jump and activated the thrusters to the maximum, and the clouds below him seemed to vanish in the opposite flowing _current _aimed towards the point where the planet would be sucked in the black hole, was that he felt absolutely NO _urge_ to regurgitate. He _did _feel slightly airy in the _skull _though; he breathed a small sigh of relief- he made it. It was better! Then... why did he end up shaking like a leaf? Luckily, he had a paper bag ready.

"I still can't believe I ACTUALLY made it," stated the coyote, gripping the wings. "It all went EXACTLY as I thought it would!" _Except the last thing I have to worry about is trying to break past the atmosphere_.

And speaking of the devil, Wile was only seconds away from reaching it. It was almost like he was about to touch the top of the glass dome he'd been trapped under. Wile's heart threatened to pop right out of his chest; he _couldn't... stop shaking_, his inner being was vibrating.

_So this is really it. _

20 seconds until he breached the layer. He had a good picture of both the front and behind of the ship, thanks to the cameras. (He felt it important to remind himself yet again that the metal he used to build the space shuttle of course, could _withstand _space, but the Agicalc had never said _for _how long...) This was it! This was IT! 10 _SECONDS... _

Wile's internal rumbling somehow also added to the drama; _internal rumbling _does crazy things. With a surprise twist.

He shuddered and looked _at _the left screen. Sure enough, the collective number of rocks that seemed to make up the entire planet was now in imminent course with the Black Hole. Wile barely _escaped_. He shuddered, but he _had _no time because now before him was the gloomy, dimly lit darkness of space. The sweat beads disappear.

_... I'm here. _

Wile snapped out of the internal monologue and realized: he didn't have a GPS! Well, he remembered that denizens of the 24th and 1/2th century didn't merely use GPS, but UPS. (Universal Positional System) Somehow, that was a less comforting thing to know. Begrudgingly, Wile grit his teeth and felt cold all over. Now he had to face facts: it was going to a lot more difficult trying to figure his way back home the Milky Way and the Sol... He noticed something on the bottom right screen of the Holographic board, thinking, _What's... this?_

When he examined it closely by touching it, it came into full view, and his mouth dropped open.

_Well bugger ME! Did it DO this? I... I... _

When he touched it, it expanded, and became a fully visible miniature _sphere _with multiple dancing lights indicated by slightly larger, colored icons. The one that seemed to stand out the most had a _bright _red icon vibrating _strongly. Text_ ran over it with the name, "_MW-90320_".

As if to deliberately rub it in his face, there was a neon-colored title lighting with the words, "Guidance System for Mutts". There was a brief second where Wile considered deliberately breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably but his pride suddenly got in the way and yelled, _Get YOURSELF together man! It's just NOT possible! _

_Well, contradictory voice in my head, I say its otherwise. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to take on pushing myself in the direction of the Shiny red icon. _

Wile dived into his work, for about 50 seconds, preparing the autopilot and entered in his personalized code to put the Wolf on Autopilot for about the next 50 cycles. The sheer _weight _of everything that happened didn't leave its full impact on him until he squinted his eyes to keep the streams of salty liquids from clouding his vision.

_You know, I want to say I'm surprised, but... turns out I'm not. Even in death, _he thought with a sour attitude, and somehow the fact he was crying was making Wile E. Coyote making choking sounds in his head the same as if he was talking to someone. _It...I-it... Even in Death... It STILL MANAGES TO BE ONE STEP AHEAD OF __**AND **__ONE-UP ME! _

With Wile E. Coyote it was more like menagerie of bizzare abstract thoughts drizzled in pretentiousness. There were moments where he was just angry, enraged at being shown up in intelligence and advanced planning, and also _happy_ that he found someone of equal _mind _like him.

What made it _sad _for him was just that tiny little fact that it happened to be _dead_.

So, he took pride in the tears; he _made _it into space, because one Genius helped _another._ So with the last of his exhausted strength, he _GRINNED._

_Farewell.

* * *

_

_**Taking a Break cause I've got projects due**_


	12. Extreme Insomnia

**20 Weeks moving**

Wile didn't have anything to eat, let alone need. So he didn't starve. And THAT would've been the easier way to madness. No. Wile only started to go a little bit insane for completely different reasons.

There was no concept of day or night in space. The spacecraft kept on its' intended course towards the Milky Way, thanks to posthumous autopilot the Agicalc left behind on the console.

Besides himself, all he happened to take along were the Scepter, and the unfinished robot armor. Every so often he kept looking at it, unsure of what he wanted to do with it-

_Large scale fullerene Armor plating, is what I need. _He narrowed his eyes and kept thinking it through, envisioning what the machine would be like... the thought warmed him like a coat, unlike the rest of the ship, all metal and cold.

There were times Wile strongly considered the chance of using his "Hold" power to hasten the _progress _of the story- ER, _SHIP_. He theorized that if he could influence any machine he was in contact with by slowing it down, then he could've sped it up as well. But he countered his own argument; there was that obvious reminder that a prolonged usage of his own power would bring on the WORST Headache he'd ever had, and sends neurological impulse strains to his cranium, creating an effect equal to an "Abdominal bloatedness", paralyzing him. So he trashed the idea before it could have fully conceived; he was an obvious risk taker, but not a deathseeker.

Sadly, he knew, he wasn't very far from the Milky Way, nor was he getting any nearer. Every day he saw the magnificent giant swirling hazy white mass with a grand core sitting at the end unlike anything he'd ever seen, and that was how it kept looking for days. The first, and many other days that followed _after _he awoke from a periodic sleep and that was the first thing staring him in his face. Nothing but the amazing _black _and dimly lit stars spread out far and spread out wide, surrounding the collected aural _mass. _

He started feeling a little depressed... and alone. The speed which the Wolf was going at was nothing short of 50 lightyears per minute, relatively the same speed as a car going 40 miles per hour on a highway- but still annoyingly slow. Even if it was crafted from the precious metal that made as the strange Agicalc's weapons, had he tried making the machine go any faster there would've been unpredictable consequences.

Again, there was the issue of hunger. From experience, the jackal knew it could go unnatural lengths of time without ANY food. He was built biologically that way. Too bad it left him feeling unsettled and bottled _in_. He'd been stuck on a planet with no name, and his only _food_ he'd been living on were dead bug carcasses.

He brought 8 of said carcasses along for his lengthy voyage; 3 had already been devoured, all of perfect size and stature to keep the blood flowing to his brain. He limited himself to a bite per day, and a bite per evening, to _ward _against the stomach growls. He hated the growls: they made him growl, and it didn't help with thinking. Fact, it made it hard think. But even though Wile had to make due with what little there was so he wouldn't _waste _into nothing, he was satisfied.

But if this maiden voyage was dragged out any longer, the supply would diminish, and so would he. So far, his new found _freedom_ from the destroyed planet and grave of Agicalc was more of a curse than a blessing.

And then there were the dreams, which must have been the most painful thing Wile had.

Wile would wake up, his toes curling like he wanted to avoid them being stepped on, and his hands wouldn't stop trembling. His spine tingled underneath the M14 Greatcoat; his teeth grated his _nerves _like a full set of icecubes. The dreams had him shooting up in a chilling sweat, something with drool on the rim of his collar, so he tried distracting himself by staring listlessly into the abyss of Space and the Milky Way dead ahead became his only priority.

(this is out of place but just to explain, A "**greatcoat**" is a large overcoat ytpically made of wool designed for warmth and protection against the weather. The collar and cuffs can be turned **out **to protect the face. For Wile E. Coyote, because he's so tall, it FITS. And he always has the collar put up. This suit was pretty popular in the 19th Century as both Military and Casual wear for the wealthy. Wile E. Coyote's is coloured dark green.)

On the wall was a bunch of scratch marks that heralded the days he'd been stranded. So with his sharpened nail he scratched another into the hull.

If a witch stared into a mirror-sharp reflection of her "magic" cauldron, or a well-off homeowner had a high definition television, than that was the dreams looked like; just as if he'd been immersed into them- and it was warm.

He saw things he didn't remember even if he spent a lifetime thinking over; visions of people whose walking images haunted him.

He was sitting in a room- or to be more accurate, he _saw _himself sitting inside a room. Everything was all black and white, and the black-and-white image of himself was wearing a white coat, and fiddling around with a weird device with two metalic prongs. Two lines of energy appeared between the metal prongs and caused a black hole to appear almost instantly right on top. The real, full colored Wile dropped open his mouth in _shock_. So did the black and white one, even though there was a difference in second lag. The pantamome Wile shot up out of chair, dropped all of ihis tools, and looked like he was going to say something. But as it turned out, he _didn't_, and rushed right _through _the real Wile- it was like the Real Wile was nothing more than a misty haze and the pantamome Wile ran straight into a ghost.

_This all looks eerily familiar_. _I KNOW WHAT THAT MACHINE IS!... Too bad I can't think of a name- GET focused! It's not like... like I don't remember much of anything about my memories! _

Besides his family, himself, Escaping the Protectorate he wanted nothing more than to throttle and annihilate for robbing him of both his past and future, and the Agicalc, now nothing but a smoldering quantum singularity in a black hole- which thinking about didn't make the wily yote feel any better.

Where was he? Something about this seemed familiar- but it would've been too easy to chalk it up to _memories. _

He carefully reassessed his predicament- he _was _having a dream, and dreams tended to border on the surreal had no base in reality. It was more like it would distort things of reality to... things that couldn't possibly exist. The subconscious could push the boundaries of fantasy and cause anything grounded in reality to lose form and meaning; and what sort of simulation or form it'd take depend heavily on wherever the mind was based in reality.

_Unless something in reality influenced what I'm seeing, these can't be my memories_. And the dream did in fact, promptly end there, because Wile faithfully applied an appropriate tact of logic to it. When he awoke, he could see the cold of his breath over the coat collar, and also, the wall with the number of days scratched on it.

"Memories can't reach my dreams. It's impossible..." he breathed, getting angry. "They don't have anything to do with me."

_Wait. Who am I saying that to? _

To avoid thinking he was becoming mad, he started a small game in his head to use his own nails to scratch out equations and factions on the walls. He did this for next 30 days.

But when said 30 days was up, Wile E. Coyote, suffering from deep insomnia, called a cessation to the game, which wasn't a game at all. The walls had nothing but black ink- all in neatly written out equations that spanned 20 rows each, going up, down, left right, diagonally, on the ceiling, crossing over numbers, crossed out numbers, If-Then statements, graphs, geometrical shapes with tiny numbers trimming the edges, exchanges, substitutions, subtractions, builds towards missing quantities, exclusions of quantities, or decimal round-ups. In fact, Wile's arm felt like a lump of clay when he was on his 500th problem and he could only manage an "equal" sign before the arm caved and Wile just sank to floor, exhausted. The Insomnia took its toll. Wile fell asleep, with his mind screaming at him to stay _awake_, like terrible wail of banshees. Sadly, he disobeyed and let all facilities of his indescribable intellect _shut down_.

That pain in his arm followed him in his dreams. His imagination was completely stable enough to create another pantomime world, and he was right in the same room as his... _baby self_.

_Hey. This is my room. That's me as a baby, _he thought casually, not acting surprised. But truth was he didn't know how to react. There was nothing to be felt... other than him going, "Awww!" because it was _his _room, and baby Wile was in his diapers clutching very firmly to a miniature Abbacus his original biological father had given him when he 2-years-old. The other hand was a fist turned into a thumb, and the thumb was in the mouth of the baby, fast asleep. Every so often the baby would whimper or make a growling noise.

_That baby is me! _Wile wanted to scream. Now he was surprised, but he heard a noise behind him. Entering the room were two figures that made the grown-up coyote's nose and ears drop stunned. One was a very pudgy-looking man with a strong chin, while the other was a kindly young female yote wearing a typical 40's skirt. Despite his utter surprise, Wile wasn't completely off guard when they walked right through him. _Dreams _sure were unusually vivid! But he kept convincing himself that this was a dream, and nothing more. Said convincing did little other than make him turn a complete 360* around and refute everything he said.

Wile gulped hard. "It's just a _dream, a dream, a dream, and nothing more._"

He turned around. One of his parents walked over and stroked the adorable little munchkin coyote pup on the head, and on reflex the baby kicked one of his legs out, then whimpered. The two of them cooed and fawned happily over their baby.

Wile decided that these were, if this supposed-memory served, his parents.

He just didn't understand why he was seeing this.

"AAH!" Wile, still tired, and still feeling the soft turbulence of the Wolf still moving in space, woke up. He wiped his face off, dripping with sweat. He suddenly didn't feel as cold anymore.

The same thing happened 30 days after, when the Wolf was passing a stray nebula that was too many leagues away from the struggling shuttle to cause any real harm. Another of Wile's own dreams felt so real, he almost mistakingly thought they'd come to life just to rub it into his face, "_meh, meh, meh, I'm a DREAM MIXED WITH YOUR MEMORIES, durp, durp durp, I'm GONNA BE FRAUGHT WITH MEMORIES, MEH, MEH, HEM, I'M GONNA PROVE YOU WRONG, MMMMEEEEH!_" (WHICH didn't actually happen)

Wile thought he was wide awake, but the second he made a _blink _with his eyes, that all changed. just as he reopened them again, a split second was all it took for the ship, the controls, space, and his own hands to disappear and be replaced with a gigantic _complex _that was 30 kilometers in size. There was also a bunch of overlapping arcs _around _a very flamboyant entrance at the top of a series of steps easing their way down _a _gentle slope to the sidewalk where the "Real" Wile E. Coyote was standing. Sitting above the etrance and the second story level was a tall tower with a pointed symmetrical triangular roof, shaded a nice, apple red. And there was a clock.

_I know where THIS is_, Wile stated. _It's a school. I went here when I was Four._

As if right on the top of his head, the history of the school, starting with its _name _was on the tip of Wile's tongue.

_A... A... _

It was dancing so dangerously at the tip, it was _driving _the coyote _INSANE_. He was surprised that he wasn't getting a headache from all the unnecessarily dramatic flashes that kept happening in front of his face.

Ac... _me univer... _

_... _

And Wile remembered.

"_Acme University_," he said aloud. "I'm RIGHT, this is Acme... Acme University. Though Acme itself," he stated pointedly to no one, "Is a rough reinterpretation of the Greek phrase, "Highest Point"." he scratched his head. "Yeah," he said in a lower, depressed voice, "_Highest point. _As in, _climax, peak, zenith, crown_, or..."

He blinked, and honestly hoped that he was going to wake up that moment- but nothing happened, other than his _nose _dropping and his eyes popping wide open.

"Good to see you, _mutt_. This is a nice place to be. A little wacky and most likely a little surreal for my tastes. Except... _I don't have any._"

Wile held up a hysterical, angry finger at the floating Gramophone with rings around its' base and two disjointed arms and legs. "You CAN'T be _real!_" Wile was so started, he lost his footing and fell flat on his _rear_. He sat up and rubbed it while going, "Ow."

The Agicalc approached him, but Wile didn't move or do anything- he was still actively aware it was a _dream_, -albeit, a stupid, monochrome, and uninteresting one that kept dangling memories before his mind like a bait for fish.

"Of course I'm not _real_. I wouldn't be talking like THIS, would I? I figured, why not just approach you normally. Aren't you happy to see me?"

Wile brushed himself and stood up. "I _think _I get it."

"**Oh. You do?**" said the Agicalc, raising one _hand _out to shake his. Which Wile promptly did.

"Please don't say it like that," said Wile. "I get that... I'M GOING MAD. And my brain is dangling all this (BOOOOOP) in front of me... to _mess _with me!"

"**But it's your mind, Wile E. Coyote**. **Doesn't that mean you're really making yourself go mad? And nothing has happened to you just yet.**"

"Nothing _needs_ to," said Wile as he scratched his noggin. "I can't be making myself go mad. There are plenty of other natural causes of mental illness. I might be simply hallucinating my old school, and _you_, because I've been starving myself crazy for the past 60 days. I'm _not _surprised to see you. Why should I be? You're DEAD."

"**Too True. I am a figment that you formed, because you can never really forget about me. If there were any other iterations of me, they'd only exist in your mind.**"

"Definitely," chirped Wile as he folded his arms proudly, holding a mightier-than-thou sort of air over the machine. "And you should count yourself lucky! After all, you now hold a space in the mind of a GENIUS. I won't access why is now you appear before me, because in stating, I suppose the one thing to make sense around here is you, and _not _what I think can be my memories here."

"**Oh, I suppose that does make a whole of sense. But isn't that bad?**"

"Not at all. I'm a well endowed individual."

"**Yes, I DID do that to you. That's why you're wearing clothes to begin with**."

"That's NOT WHAT I _MEAN,_" Wile snapped. "When I say endowed, I'm really talking about my natural ability go without food for DAYS on end. Which... in hindsight constitutes as a double-edged sword, because the brain needs chemical energy to properly function, and food, like the bug carcasses, contain chemical energy, so unless I do, I can't think straight."

"**Correct me if I'm wrong, but there haven't been a whole of instances where your workmanship carries your point across. Example, your various inventions, which have a tendency to backfire when in the face of physics**."

"_Ridiculous_," Wile grimly, and coldly responded. "Science is all trial and error. In time, I can improve all my past failures and make it so that they are infallible!"

"...**Infallible**?"

"INFALLIBLE, so that the laws of physics won't matter when I perform them!"

"... **Your making too little sense here**."

"I beg your pardon?"

"... **You'll have to indulge me a little more**."

The entire scene around them started to blur, then hazing into a rushing, intense blur of _speed_ running between the Agicalc Figment and Wile E. Coyote. One moment they were standing on the sidewalk (Well Wile was, whereas the Agicalc was floating.) the next, it was as if a camera on a _movie _set was shifting its focus from one vantage _point_ and rushing straight on into the school, flying past the checkerboard tiled _flooring _and school lockers and zipping past multiple empty classrooms, then without warning a _massive _Jerking sound that seemed to have hit their eardrums as they headed right on into one classroom, on the first floor with the sun shining through the windows sitting on the far left side. Wile, when he saw that the "Scene" didn't move anymore, plopped himself on one of the desks and folded both his knees. The Agicalc floated to the left side of the Teacher's desk.

Wile had to admit that this was now getting really interesting.

"Indulge. Indulge! Because my traps are perfect. I remember clear as day. I made flaming arrows, I tinkered with ideas for a complex system of pulleys to drop a number of bombs on whatever target I choose..."

"**On paper**."

"W-what?"

"**You totally did those ideas on paper. The real me had seen that.** **NOT to say they weren't in perfect proportion, or that they wouldn't have WORKED, however... what if you, the hunter, the predator, the trapper, encountered a prey that there was zero probability of you ever catching?**"

Wile snapped, "I can. I will. Pardon me for a minute." He unzipped and removed both of his shoes.

"I wasn't clear that time, was I? I know that most likely, in the past, I was just as smart as I was now. But _here_? Technology which I could never have dreamed or truly appreciate being on the lam from the authorities and everything is what now makes it possible for intergalactic travel! If that's the case, then what about weaponry? What about tools for fixing or building structures! Tall towers! Welded iron! Machines of modern convenience!"

"**I did teach all that to you. And You absorbed it. But physically you had little to work with**," said the Agicalc.

"And I never would've dreamed that I'd ever spend 9 years of my life in the future, _learning _about what I should expect to encounter in the future... about people, new cultures, new fashion senses! _New _philosophies, _new _forms of entertainment, _and _conflicts between neighbouring planets and unlikely species... " he sighed, reminiscing a little. "I mean, it was A LOT. There was so much to learn. And I honestly don't think I've really learned everything. I mean, I had no idea what had _changed _being in stasis for 3 centuries, and what _has _after 9 years of being stranded. And Now I'm on the way back to find out."

"**And what are you... planning?**"

"Get my hands on every nice little gadget, disassemble it, run some tests, apply dangerous chemicals, and then reassemble it into something of _my _liking, then go hunting."

"**And you think advanced technology will decrease the probability of failing**."

"That's the logical feedback I predict."

"**By what authority, or opinion do you assume such pretentiousness?**"

"Myself, of course. What did you expect?" Wile's mouth curved into nasty grin, as he jumped off the desk. "Are we _done _here? I believe I've made my point quite sound."

"**Well, the person who can decide it is over is you. And yet I'm still here**."

"So you are," Wile scowled. His face lightened up a little and he said uneasily, "I want to ask you something, since we're on the subject."

"**Go right ahead.**" Was it his imagination, or did the Agicalc of his imagination seem a little pretentious just as he was as well? Then he thought it stupid that he should bother worrying about something so trivial since his dream was going to end soon anyway- and why hadn't the dream ended to begin with?

"I'm on _my _way to the Solar System in the Milky Way galaxy. Using parts of what your armor yielded to me in sophisticated technology, making unbelievably sturdy armor, I constructed the "Wolf".

"**The Wolf**."

"Yeah. I was gonna go with "Phoenix", but I thought I should save that for a much more elaborately designed craft when I get my hands on the materials, but enough of that jibber-jabber. What makes the navigational system and the autopilot." Wile's face, like the conversation, took a more serious turn. "And... you did something to it, that turned it into a homing guide that's pointing me in the direction of the Milky Way and the Solar System. I want to know, it _was _you who did that, didn't you?"

The Agicalc's stance was indeterminate. And for some reason about it was vibrating like a ringing phone.

"**Why ask me?**"

"A good question. You comprise everything I know of the Agicalc. Therefore, what I remember of you is merely a reflection of the one I remember, up until the time of its death."

"... **Very clever. But if I'm simply just a reflection, then I wouldn't have any knowledge of beforehand things you would never know about, because I kept a lot of things from you.**"

Wile shook his head. "I guess you'd be right. But you overlooked one thing. You told me once that we weren't unlike each other. I never understood what it was you meant; until now."

It was plain as day when the Agicalc's entire body was going through a period of internal rumbling. Wile sat a desk, took a deep breath, and began.

"I thought as quickly as you, planned ahead as much as you. I was _taught _by you. So naturally, I think a lot like you. That's how I beat you. And you? You assumed and thought highly of yourself as much I think highly of myself. And you failed anyway, because I exceeded your expectations by trying even when it seemed impossible; again, you _failed _as badly as I would've, by being bested by me, by falling for one of my so-called _failure _traps. Because if you _lived _through it, you would never have admitted defeat; because you were egotistical, confident, and incapable of admitting failure. You had so much in common with me."

Wile wasn't talking to a figment of a machine anymore- but it was a spitting image himself.

"So I had put together a number of ways you could've won," said the quick-thinking coyote, indicating his noggin by pointing at it. "Among things you could've hid from me. The possibilities, the maybes, the _guesses_, even the _theoretic_ and convoluted. I had already known from the beginning, that one of your possible stunts would've involved leaving behind a nasty surprise on the OS that comprised the console I built into wall, only so inconspicuous that I would never notice it until I had escaped the destruction of the planet by mere seconds. And to my surprise, my overcomplicated gamble, based on one in a million possible scenarios, has become grounded in reality."

The duplicate's image kept changing between his powerfully built self and the one that was the machine.

"But try as I might, I can't duplicate your own individual will. And if you share the same plane of mind as me, then you can answer me. Even if you're nothing but a figment. I want to know _why _it was, Agicalc."

Wile's expression went sombre. "Why did you want me to live?"

The other coyote took one moment staring at the "Real" one... before bursting out in sadistic, depressed laughter.

The real one's eyes went wide with terror.

Everything blurred and started rushing like an upset painting. The "other" one's eyes flashed red.

" - _BECAUSE, _- " came the original machine's voice, one Wile so easily remembered, and feared hearing that voice for every second he breathed.

" - _**BECAUSE, SOMEHOW, WATCHING YOU MADE ME QUESTION MYSELF. THE MORE I QUESTIONED MYSELF, THE MORE I BECAME AWARE OF MY OWN DEATH. YOU? You had NO fear of it. So, I set out to give you that FEAR OF DEATH SO YOU WOULD DESIRE MORE TO HOLD ONTO YOUR LIFE, OPPOSED TO ME, WHO WISHED TO END MINE. **__- " _

The real Wile fell silent.

The "Other" Wile fell silent. "**Or something like that.**"

The Agicalc didn't resume its original form and Wile was staring into a mirror. The difference to be seen here was that one was gently smiling at the other.

" "Something like that"? Do you honestly expect me believe such a puerile response?" Wile yelled, his face going blue rage.

"**You yourself said so. We're like one another, aren't we? If that's the case, then we both are prone to this tendency of not holding back on truth. When I was still functioning, I wanted nothing more than results, and you did not try to hide anything from me. So, it is my understanding that I should treat others the way you want to be treated. The Mutt and the Agicalc are similar. So you have the truth on word of yourself and the Agicalc.**"

When he thought about it, he became struck with the realization that yet again, he'd been trumped in knowledge. But he didn't like thinking about it. He didn't get angry- only mildly incensed and genuinely impressed. It was an amazingly brilliant form of logic Wile never touched on- and it came from a figment in his own imagination.

_I guess even my genius surprises me when I least expect it. _

Wile started to smile serenely, and once again, became saddened, thinking that somewhere at this point, the Agicalc was just going to go away again in some manner, and leave the jackal all by himself. He wanted to cry, and didn't say anything, because he knew he didn't want to say anything, and he knew he needn't say anything.

The other Wile started to fade. The real Wile didn't bother to ask where it was headed because it'd have to be somewhere in his mind. And what better place would it have to be other than the mind of a _genius? _

"**Take it easy.**"

The only problem was that the dream was far from over. Wile felt a little a peace, having finally confronted the Agicalc once more- _but _for a figment it was surprisingly able to counter most of his arguments...

Now Wile was more interested in why his dream had him sent to this place, this... _school_, with a name he felt more familiar with in the Agicalc than in some "memory". Once he put both shoes on, he took one step...

Only for a great flash of light to change everything in one blazing second. Originally everything was all pantomime, black and white and shades of grey... the next, all the vivid colors came clean into view like a lit fire. There was a sparkly effect that lifted up and made all the colors radiate and the light hitting them create some sort of... illumination.

_It seems like this isn't over yet, and I wonder. AM I really the one who chooses to not let it be over? Then what am I subconsciously seeking that demands me to gaze it so that I can decide it will be over? _

A hard, poorly worded question with no easy answer; Wile did acknowledge that was he was seeing had to have something to do with his memories, and now he could ignore it no longer. There was something he _repressed, or _sealed away, or _whatever_, that demanded its own audience.

As he stepped into the door he turned, and his mouth dropped open.

"Where'd all these... _people _come from?"

They were animals of such small variety. Canines, water fowl, tiny horses, felines, and even the occasional bat with sunglasses. There were rabbits and also, land fowl like chickens and birds. Some of them he recognized- and recognized he DID.

Except for a blurry-looking character sitting near the front, cheating off another student's paper.

"Johnny Macintaro..." was directed at the fair-yellow bird. "Sam VanDyke?" "Mallory Winea." Beautiful _Mallory, _that female pup he used to have a small crush on. Wile walked over to her desk usually on the far right of the classroom, but... he didn't feel anything. Probably because many of the people he remember, he realized, were already dead and gone.

"My legs would melt, every time I saw you. Hearts would pop out of my eyes and my throat wouldn't work at all..." he romanticized, reaching out to stroke the ebony-colored hair of the sassy poodle- and the hand went straight through her like liquid glass. The wrist disappeared midway between her cute, turned up, supple nose and her left eye. The fake got up, and walked from her desk up to the teachers' desk and started to recite some poetry...

_"The prettiest winds, like opportunity, blow our way over the rising sea..." _

_Oh yeah, now I remember. I didn't appreciate poetry much, _Wile thought. But right as he thought about this, the scene cascaded into a surreal mess. At this point, the jackal did nothing but wait, and nothing happened. Ah! He realized again, how stupid was he! He needed to remember something about the school to trigger the memory's performance- because that was how memories tended to work, especially if you were _sucked _into them due to extreme levels of insomnia.

Acme University. He came here when he was four. But he was only interested in things like constructing, building, and fantasizing. When he was four, he tried constructing a complicated moving platform to move food from one end of the _cafeteria-_

"!"

Clean cut except for the grime staining the once pristine checkerboard patterned floors, stretching for miles on end with tables, big enough to house an entire congregation of world leaders like it was the senate, the cafeteria was a lot like a cathedral.

"The School cafeteria's bigger than I remember. You can fit two tanks in here," he said, looking around.

Except when they actually put War Tanks in Acme University in honor of a Pro-Veterans day, they doubled the size of that particular wing of the school!

"Well I think its dandy and everything but I don't think anything important happened in the cafeteria."

There was a _FZOOSH _sound, and Wile found himself staring at small doppleganger of himself. Wearing a nice and oddly "Baby Boomers-esque" styled clothing that was a white undershirt covered by a pair of overalls, a little corny ball cap with a helicopper on it.

"Oh wait," Wile said, his mind's eye fixated on the mirror image of himself. "Except that."

It was himself! ... As a kid. The kid Wile was walking towards an empty table with a tray of... _ugh_, was Wile's expression... _the Cafeteria Lady's _Mashed Potato Fritter. "Her cooking was terrible! My parents could never afford a stomach pump... nor any other kid's parents." _Come to think of it, the School was funded by the lavishly well-off Acme Corporation, and So the Homeland district set this entire area off as Acme Acres, that is what happened. Except I'm just going to keep that to myself. _

_From WHOM, exactly? _Wile's ego jumped right in front of him, with a fierce, cutting rebuttal. From this thought Wile felt more ashamed.

The kid Wile sat by himself, ate in silence, then gagged when the food wouldn't agree with his stomach. Thankfully Wile's unbelievably immersive fever dream was in color- the kid Wile's expressions were telltale signs it was sick, it was about to turn green in the face. And maybe it was just watching him, but Wile _remembered _those lackadaisical, idle days of terrible food, because a hand flew to his mouth to keep him from regurgitating.

The scene changed. The kid Wile was no different from present day Wile E. Coyote; he took off his hat, and ignoring the sheer lack of logic in voids and _spaces in it, _pulled out some kind of... weird looking machine that was a couple of pipes and a gigantic bag and whistles that activated when he began to blow into it. In fact, Young Wile blew into it with a "_HUUUUUUUWWWWUGGH!_" Then he breathed a great sigh of relief.

"I... I _invented that machine_, too," stated the 53-year-old Jackal with a chuckle. "An automatic Stomach-Triggered Regurgitation Displacement Unit! _And _it used the power of _voids _to relocate vomit to a pocket dimension..." Wile ran over to watch himself use it in action, curious and brimming with strange excitement. He scratched his chin and his eyes went Wide with surprise. "It had bugs I couldn't work out!"

Naturally young Wile continued eating. Then the entire scene changed as a bunch of snooty-looking kids walked right on over to the opposite table. Then they started laughing, but the young Wile didn't stay one spot. Instead, he inched further down the table _from _them.

_Typical classic scene. I remember them - popular kids who developed early because they tend to think themselves more important, more higher than everybody else and the look down on lower levels of the food chain. They're slaves to fashion, gluttony, and are characterized as walking marketing propaganda with tiny pieces of metal slowly degrading and mutilating their bodies. Always throwing those STUPID parties, or picking on nerds, or eating tons of junk food, or pickin' on nerds... or engaging in rude indulgences like... like shaving cats, or feigning confidence, being the centre of attention or dressing in all those UGLY clothes... or pickin' on me. _

Which actually what was happening. Unlike the poetry scene, real Wile E. Coyote couldn't hear any audio like a Radio Intercom. Because he was shutting out the noise. little Wile was "visited" by some of the "stronger" popular kids, boys that were well up to 8 to 13 years old. There were 3 of them, and since Wile was a mute, plain and simple, the inaudible, "Hey punk, gimmie your money" was unopposed. Young Wile got tossed into a trash can!... and the popular kids all walked away laughing. Among them was a pretty baby-blue toned poodle, wearing an adorable 5 year-old skirt. Young Wile watched them with a disbelieving glare while removing the pickles. Always the pickles. In fact, the young Wile vomited in the same can upon seeing the pickles. Then he ate it.

_What's going on? Where'd that BLURRY looking kid come from? _

Because there was a very blurry looking face in the same can as Wile. But he was still too caught up in being angry with those popular kids for a minute forgetting that even if he was, they didn't exist anymore.

_I hate them_, he thought. He did. Plain and simple, he was confident of his own feelings. _But... do I just think that, or did I think that THEN because they threw me in a can? _

Because 4-year-old Wile E. Coyote had been tossed into plenty of cans. Trash cans, ash cans, basketball cans, recylced bins, and garbage cans! Each image popped up like a scene in a film, filling Wile with more disgust than ever, and thinking how his childhood seemed unfair. But he spotted another hole in his memory as to how he'd end up in such circumstances in the first place. His home was a cave perched on a low Desert flatland, and there was a Mailbox standing 3 feet away from it with a trash can in front of it, where a young Wile was hiding. His father would come out there every so often and find him hiding inside there.

"Come on out Wile."

(But Dad! There's a bunch of neat junk in here!)

"Really."

Young Wile pulled out a pair of outdated broken headphones and copper wires, and a bunch of plastic wraps. He looked like he'd just had a taste of the Sun, and now he was going to rub it in his father's face. The real Wile with the "Prosthetic" voice watched as the mute sign-using kid self conversing with his dad... proving less successful than he wished because in hindsight, it was difficult trying to emphasize all the potential a pair of handmade headphones could have to a middle-income father. Then Dad lovingly scooped up the young boy and roughly running his fingers through the hair, showing his affection. The younger Wile keened his nose up with an irritated expression, embarrassed.

His dad asked him in a happier sounding tone, "Hey, why don't you go and see some of your friends at school or something? I never see you with him."

The younger coyote looked up at his Dad with a ret gone mask. The real Wile stood from far away and thought

_What friends? I remember they thought I was a geek. _

_You know, you'd think this stuff is giving me so much nastalgia... but it isn't! I'm the calmest I've ever been_. _I don't know if this is all some kind of fever dream or just a regular dream. _

_I know this for certain. It's a little too realistic to be just a dream, and at the same time... _

_It's too good to be truly anything more at a dream and- I am rambling in my own head why AM I DOING THAT? UGH! I CAN'T keep my head on the ground lately! It's like I'M repelling gravity!_

He almost screamed, because upon saying "Gravity" the scene of his home disappeared and now _he _was back at Acme University. But this time... he was in another large room that echoed with the sound of a bouncing ball, and the ball that was bouncing was colored _Orange_, it had a series of perpendicular black rings circling it. Wile didn't act surprised; instead, he remembered this was a sport-

"Basketball?" He jumped like an excited spider monkey upon seeing _older _forms of the _same _anthros that attended Acme University, playing Basketball on the squeaky clean floors. On both sides of him there were students sitting in the stands watching a practice game in progress. But Wile wasn't paying any attention and started walking around and past the hallucinations. He never gave it a whole lot of thought, but he had about as much interest in outdoor or indoor sporting as a Janitor for telephone marketers. He wondered. Just where was he supposed to fit in _this _picture? And why did he keep seeing that grayish blur sitting in the stands out of the corner of his eye?

"Where am I supposed to... oh." _Now I remember!_ What he did remember felt kind of strange and didn't seem to fit anywhere in the memory. He could see himself, a 15-year-old scraggily jackal in basketball shorts, sleeveless and shoes, wearing glasses and shaking like he was about to get a flue shot from the doctor- he _had _very sensitive skin!

Again, there wasn't anything of interest to be seen here other than a "Pause" that followed right after the game ended, and he was in the office being grilled by the coach officer. That Wile lost his place as the School's _water _boy.

_It was a stupid job! I give cylinder containers of Hydrogen 2 Oxygen to a bunch of overmuscled scatterbrains who couldn't solve opening a can of sardines let alone a hypothetical equation of math!_ Wile angrily thought, watching himself stand up then nervously and shakily walk _out _of the coach's dimly lit office.

"Him...? He's Coach Raymond Lester." And while he didn't admit it out loud or acknowledge it in any form, one of the few humans who worked at the Acme University. Always, there was vein popping across the left side of his face like an irritation that made itself a comfortable little hovel in the straight-chined man's face.

Lester did nothing but go over a bunch of papers, with irritation, making the real Wile E. Coyote smirk with a sense of arrogance. He didn't know the coach very well, but even at that time, hew knew enough to infer that Lester was the sort man that acted on impulses and poor judgement. The coyote was better than this man, who headed a team that scored nothing close a victory in the last five years.

With another blur, Wile saw a number of things that seemed to jump out at him like a mole in a game. Among them happened to be phases of a relatively simple life with a low income family, the Wile in that dream spending days reading books, practicing his handwriting, or making small sized inventions that would work on electricity that were temporary. Then that life evolved, as if in a limited window of _seconds_, as young Wile ascended, grew taller and reached just an inch from original size of _now_. And _right _now, his memories went from nostalgic and uninteresting to slightly annoying.

Wile didn't see it when it hit, _again_, that terrible blue haze that caused the entire scene to change. He wasn't in the Coach's office anymore, but now he was standing in a... classroom composed of blacktopped desks and glass beakers, gleaming like diamonds under the fluorescent pale lighting. He saw a slightly older version of himself, and 20 beakers, all filled with an easily recognizable agent of colorless liquids. The real Wile knew it was an awful smelling liquid, because he done this before, and he remembered where the experiment went. He kept the lab at room temperature; he didn't want the stuff to go splody in his face!

Wile was 19 years old and, since Acme University was also a college campus, he enrolled, and it was a free program. He'd gotten a lot taller!

_And, dare I say, quite handsome. I was always good looking back then! _the snickering Jackal thought with glee. No different from now, actually...

The memory was becoming clearer. Here was Wile learning a more practical method of creating mustard bombs toward... some unknown purpose. And there was that hole, staring back up at Wile, despite his already beginning to remember just about every other aspect of his life, his childhood, and his _thing _with the lack of friends_ and all_. Here, he was working in the School Lab, sans goggles - mostly because he was impetuous at that time, and endured harsher and more stupidly recieved injuries. All of it was like watching a movie reel - Wile E. Coyote only had to see it and some holes were filled - if not all of them.

"Ow." said the real Wile. Because he remembered this scene, - He emptied one of the beakers into another beaker, but he forgot it was a silly thing to do. Mustard Gas, if not handled safely, was _nothing to poke a stick at. _Exposed, it would cause extreme irritation, unsightly blisters with yellow liquid, and its unnatural chemical sequence was deadly potential for... mutagenical effects.

"water and the siphio-chlorodide, mustard gas, sodium chloride..." muttered the lab coat Wile mixing the chemicals... then the Real Wile dropped his mouth as the lab Wile realized his mistake to late AND...

_KABOOM!_

Naturally the explosion wasn't _deadly _and such, but it definitely blackened the inexperienced Coyote's face... and left a semi-permanent scar a little above his right eye. Actually, it was mostly covered in fur and he had his signature "stunned" look.

Another memory showed Wile working with a pulley bigger than his own head, operating three hooks to drag heavy objects toward a wall in a "sling" pattern. All remote controlled, which he designed personally. And from a safe distance!

Because the task of taking _multiple _heavy objects would be tedious he reasoned- except this latest contraption he heavily leaned towards being successful what with the speed he'd use it at and objects in question being carried. For beta testing and all, it was two large boulders, as usual, tied up together and the hook was fixed around the rocks, then he pressed the button to drag the rocks to the wall- except _that _didn't happen. The rope pulling said rocks towards a painted _target _on the pristine white gym walls. The real Wile couldn't see what it was, and couldn't remember, but he did remember what happened next; the pulley _broke, _then the powerful hook was withdrawn back, shafting the gargantuan boulder... over on TOP of him and...

_WHAM!_

In seconds the labcoated jackal was _flat _as a pancake.

_For reference, _Wile thought to himself, watching as his memory faded to black like that of a film, _USE SHORTER ROPE. _

_But aside from that... all these memories of school and the rest of my life in general - Weenie Burger being owned by a man that looks suspiciously like the same one who owned that restaurant I stole pickles from in the future was a surprise - all of them flowing through me. _

As if on cue, another memory popped out of nowhere, but it wasn't all that noteworthy for him to pay enough attention. _I remember this scene. Practicing Baseball with... I don't know who. _

For no reason, some kind of mellow, sadly sentimental music was playing in the background, because this older Wile was playing the sport by himself. Every time he threw the ball he would go _fetch _it (ugly term to use) then he head for the dull green bleachers to pick up a clipboard with paper on it and write furiously into it. Then he'd pick up the ball and throw it again, rinse, wash, repeat; _that _Wile was focused into his work he wore a bizzare head contraption that sputtered steam as it was fixed atop his giant bump-

_An Acme Noggin Soothingsizer. I remember this day. Some of the jocks after the game started throwing rocks at all of the Nerds gathered around in the Open air lab behind the Science Institution owned by Acme Acres on the far side of town._ _I got hit. I would've normally gone home that day. What I did was buy that machine..._

From the SAME company he signed into a lifelong contract with. He gasped.

_And then I sort of just... didn't go home. What I did was go to the baseball field because it was empty and take my mind off of everything. _

The next memory didn't make anything any less clearer. But he was back in his personalised lab mixing chemicals... and he wasn't alone. There was somebody else working at a different table and he had NO idea what he was doing!

_Who's...? _

"_Hey! Wile old buddy, whatdya suppose'll happen if I rewroute all these crazy wires?_" he asked, pointing to a broken off piece of a computer's hardware, all carefully handpicked. But this guy, he was wildly switching input connectors out with the _wrong _ones, and that would screw up the hardware, and at the speed he was doing it, electricity was crackling to life from the build up! Real Wile saw the memory self push the gray blob of unrecognizeable memory aside.

_"You IDIOT! Stop messing with them like that! You're going to GET-!"_

_BBBZZZZZKT! KA-BOOM!_

"*cough*... _fried_."

Another memory had Wile and the gray blob (It appeared that way, because it was someone Wile clearly remembered, but not enough to form a face.) had him standing near a dumping container, and instructing the gray blob, with a flat beak, to operate the crane and drop A LARGE, HEAVY boulder into the container... except that didn't go as planned. The blob was taking too long with the controls and then accidentally pulled the _left _switch down then pulled the right switch up, then left _down_, then right _up- _causing the stupid crane machine to drive on over and _mow _down the jackal right when he was working on very important schematics for hunks of wood that would _chop _themselves (Wile recieved his intermediate degree in Science and Technology that time and was planning to go for his Masters.). Then the machine ran _back _over him in reverse, then the Rock was _dropped _right on top of him, and before that, out of habit, the miserable jackal held up a tiny umbrella in hold against the boulder though it was actually NO use.

_WHAM!_

The dumbfounded gray blob (slightly less grayer than before) jumped down looking like he really had no idea what happened and that it all flew over his head in a matter of seconds. The blob knelt down right next to the boulder that the squished jackal was _under _and started to yell, _"Holy Boulder Wham! I was at the controllers, but then I was remembering this one time I was at this arcade and I was playing a crane game of the same NAME! HA HA, GET IT! Cause its' like- WHOO, they Rhyme and stuff! And it was A Crane game where I lost all my quarters because I was really going out of my way to get the highest score cept I couldn't get even a SINGLE STUFFED animal, and I always wanted a Pwetty little Pony to hold onto those cold lonely Nights-_" then he stopped mid sentence to guffaw, "Ooh now I'm thinking of _Knights, like the TV show? Oh now I'm thinkin' of Sandford and Son..._"

"_ENOUGH!_" screamed the _real _Wile E. Coyote, covering both his eyes and a vein that threatened to pop out. "By far that has to be the most annoying thing I'e heard in my LIFE!"

A mouth that ran twenty syllables of randomized, nonsensical jumbled idiocy in up to 20 seconds, and clearly had no idea what he was talking about, and the more he thought about it, the voice and the gray blur together sounded more familiar than he thought. As much as he didn't want to hear that ridiculous voice that sounded like shredded "Q"s, he saw another interesting memory.

This grey _blur _and he were sitting in the office talking. It was more one-sided really; memory Wile was holding a box shape popped open - the Real Wile recognized the metaphor as "Start thinking outside the _Box_". The other person sort of agreed but didn't actually look like he was caring about it at all. His normal-_voiced _response was, "So when do we get the part where we get famous and get _filthy, stinkin' RICH! I mean, if you're just a predator and all this fancy-schmancy technological junk is supposed to work on peaceful little water fowl like me, than ain't that gonna cut a slash of the profits when I get hit? I mean, how am I gonna receive MINE?" _

Wile stared at him and shook his head then held up a sign that just said, (_Losing focus_)

The blur scoffed back in response and yelled, _"Yeah, but at least I'm more photogenic, and YOU wouldn't have the figure to be a Burger Restaurant's commerical prop." _

That Wile sighed and rubbed his face, trying to emphasize what he wanted to get across to the blur. From behind his back Wile pulled out a large prop that was supposed to be a wooden black line, very smooth, very slender, metaphorically translated as, "I'm still more _slender _than you".

"_Okay, okay, how about I cut in for __**60**__ percent of the deal?_"

Real Wile watched himself drown in RAGE, and... he pulled out another sign that said, (NO, _**40 percent**__,_)

"_WE'RE talkin' about a S-TR-R-R-R-R-Retchy hole that takes people anywhere they WISH, aren't we? That's a CASHCOW!_"

(_Yes, but the ethical alterations can-_)

_FLIP_

(_Prove to be unforeseeable problems in the future_)

The blur shot him a weird look. "... _That never stops gettin' weird_."

(_What?_) "... _WHAT?" _Went both the real Wile E. Coyote experiencing the dream, repeatedly gazing over the blur to try and remember face, and the memory Wile E. Coyote who couldn't actually speak, and _neither _could they be heard. Both shot that blur another another flat stare of bereft un-surprise.

"_That thing with the signs and... stuff! How do you do that, anyway?_"

If the Wile-of-THEN could have had the artificial voice he had _now_, he would've let out a growl. The present Wile having the Memory/Dream DID.

The "Then-Wile" pulled out... a _clock _and pointed at both the blur and himself, indicating that, "_We don't have the TIME for this". _

Then that Wile put away the clock and pulled out a blueprint, showing what the project was. Except that the blueprint was suddenly gettting a bunch of greaseprints and as turned out, the _blur _was the one causing them by nosily and messily _eating _a bag of overly greasy potato chips. Wile swatted it out of the blur's greasy hands in fury, and the blur just picked up the bag again anyway. "GET your own _chips!_"

Real Wile was getting just as angry as the dream Wile and he _yelled_, what the Wile of _then _couldn't, "_Those _were MY CHIPS FROM MY DORM! You _didn't even _ASK for MY permission!" But when he stopped yelled he lapsed into an awkward silence, thinking, _Blimey, why am I yelling at a blur whose face I can't recognize?_

The memory _blur _wrestled with the jackal, grabbing the chips in a back and forth _struggle_ and chips were flying and it was just messy, and the angry jackal fiercely snatched the chips and the blur said in an obnoxious voice, "_Hey! I was eating from THAT!_ _Gimmie that, gimmie gimmie gimmie! No- I- HEY IT WAS COVERED IN SALT and stuff I drink Water with it so I gotta have salt with WATR- HEY! NNNNGH!_"

It didn't look like the struggle was going to cease anytime soon, so Wile's dream faded straight out of it. Before it _did_, Wile inspected his greasy blueprint, that lay on the floor. Even if he couldn't physically pick it up since it was all a large hallucination, it was spread out wide open, and he could see what was on the blueprint. There was plans similar to a machine he'd "seen" himself building much earlier, with energy jumping between two prongs...

"Oh MY G-"

Before he could've finished his expressing of utter surprise, Wile's embodiment in the memory was completely whisked away from the scene, and sent into the next. This irritated the jackal beyond reason, because he just _felt that he was REALLY CLOSE TO REMEMBERING something important FROM his memory!_

"OH COME NOW!" The jackal shrieked at the top of his lungs, to no one. "We were just getting to an interesting bit!"

The irony was that it was all in his own mind, and so he realized that in essence it was _he who _was unable to subconsciously process a further analysis of a scene in his memory to himself to begin with.

The next scene he saw went a step down in "Critical elements".

"College Dorm... ?"

Instead of standing around waiting for something to happen, he walked around the small hallway. It WAS a College dorm and it was the same one he stayed at when he finally moved out of his parents' cave. The accomodations were a more straightened and 60's architectural brown wood walls, and shaggy rug carpeting... what now actually looked a little _lame_. Then again he was _very _old fashioned himself; that was why he still had a honorary "Congratulatory Streaker's Medal" hanging above the door right over a _Beetles Collector's Bobblehead Set_, the kind you hung over the hooks of doors in order to get good luck or... well he forgot how that was supposed to work. And he didn't believe in Luck anyway.

The room he saw in this memory was the same way he left it... a simple four wall room that that a two bunk bed, a small desk that folded in to conserve space, and a... bulky computer that sat in the corner, almost in mint condition. There was a doorway on the left side that led to a bathroom that _doubled _as a laundry room, and the right side was a closet with several casual clothes he didn't remember buying. Other than that, it was _like _a number of rooms on campus, very compact and very low maintenance. Real Wile had to lower his head entering. The whole of the room was simple, flat, and just the way he liked it. He didn't move for a second because all he could do was train his eyes on the relic sitting in the corner- There was no T.V. because tv those days cost like, a million, and plus, Wile couldn't stand the noise. In fact, every day was silent, and Wile studied in peace.

And on that note, it hit him like lightning a number of not-as-pleasantly surprising things that happened in this room; he experimented more with building _traps _in here, involving adhesive, highly dangerous metal liquifiers, and a _toolbox _for screwing _in_, bolting down, or packaging contraptions like you wouldn't believe, with _dynamite_...

Most of those days at State University were spent bandaging all of his incredibly painful places where his body was either _blown _up, _squished, glued, stuck, flattened, _or _bitten_.

But Wile's eyes went wide in disbelief as he walked straight over- and he plopped right on the floor next to the Monitor, staring at it the same as if he'd discovered a _fossil_. Ironic, because foremost of all, he was in the deepest _grips _of the longest damned dream he ever HAD, and _somehow or other_, he (The real Wile E. Coyote) was sent 3 centuries where computers like _this _didn't exist anymore, or probably had screens a million times bigger than his escape ship.

He was at a loss for words. He forgot being upset with what he _could've _seen in the last _etch _of a memory, and focused on _this _instead, and thought about the home he remembered, perfectly illustrated, sharp as day, and just as eerily dull. "That's not my world anymore though," he noted to himself. "I don't... mind seeing all of this after all this time. I'd like to see what home looks like in the future- and I'm going to." He stood up again. "There's got to be more to remember... ngh!"

Again, he saw himself, or at least it was _another _one of his memories playing out like some crazy soap opera theatre. The real Wile E. Coyote wasn't sure if he could handle another strange and unprovoked scene in his memory- certainly not one with seeing a memory of himself with a purpled eye, bruised elbows, 8 bumps, 3 of them being mosquito bites, and a _crippled _right leg!


	13. Affably Daffy, My Fine Feathered Friend

**re-edited**

"What is _THIS!_"

The real Wile E. Coyote was flabbergasted to see himself, only a faint echo of his memories playing in front of his eyes like a bad movie. Then he continued to watch the scene play...

The "Then" Wile walked on in, and _took _the bottom bunk, and also removed his boots. His shirt was torn and he was wearing dark leaf-colored overalls that suggested he'd been under a great deal of stress. He was dragging in a hoe and a pickaxe, then dumped both on the floor as he dragged his whole body towards the bed. He'd been gardening, and that was also the same day some of the local jocks (mostly human at State U) had _managed _to cobble a few brain cells together long enough to pull one over the 20 year old jackal, by setting up a ton of his own _tricks _and contraptions against him... and dump him into manure.

_I was twenty years old here because this was 1974. Summertime, August. _This memory came flooding back in a heartbeat.

The real Wile sensed something was _amiss_... There was obviously another BIG hole he hadn't reached yet.

Though in a few minutes Wile was rudely awakened before he could nap off. The blurry character entered... and the real Wile was less surprised to see him. He didn't expect to remember the guy's face anyway. But this time was different; the blur was wearing a water boy's shirt and a football helmet.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, _MAN, _you cannot believe the day I'm havin'! First they shove _me _in the locker, fill my underwear with tartar Sauce- which tastes good with _fish_, then they're FEEDIN' me fresh fish on a barbey! Well not so much _me_ as they were feeding fish to those seniors.

Wile didn't move from the bed and held up a sign that said, (_Need sleep. Excruiating pain_)

"Oh, oh well, I believe ya. College ain't easy- sometimes you get it up and sometimes it goes down, just like that stained _glass _from the Church!" The weird blur burst out yelling like crazy, before he started to bite his nails. "You know, Popes... they hit hard- REALLY hard!"

Wile tiredl rolled over to face the idiotic _blur_ with a confused stare. (_What?_)

"We've been over this, I got inducted to become the Head... Water boy of the State U Football team!"

(_super for you_)

The blur walked over, except that it wasn't so blurry anymore. Wile shrank from any further contact just as the Wile having the dream continued to watch reflectively. The Blur sat beside Wile on his bunk.

"Yeah, I'm upset that they took your invention, too, but come on, its' no big deal! You've got a whole lifetime of neat stuff ta do!"

Something snapped in the real Wile who almost wanted to punch himself for not remembering- Not remembering to sucker punch the blur!

"You like 5 miles of bad road," the blur joked, now sporting a slight glimmer of facial features. The real Wile saw the faint outline of a flat _beak_, the sort that avians usually had.

(_Come on, not now_.)

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you'll get some of the credit, but since I was only one of the 2 people youse got to be your test monkey, doesn't that mean I'll get most of it? Think, your name up in headlights... eh, probably under mine."

Dream Wile sat up and shot another incredulous glare at his roomate, who reached down and grabbed a bag of chips from under the bed. "Want some? I know it's crumbs but its your stuff..." said the Blur, sounding a little less... self-absorbed. The Wile, still dirty and still tired, didn't think it was normal, or probable that the blur would've shared with him, especially considering that the bag of chips was actually _Wile's _and NOT the Blur's.

The real Wile wasn't paying attention to the bag of chips as much the person eating from them. The blur was getting less blurry, just as dream Wile sat upright and also took some chips. The real Wile pondered aloud, right _in front _of the face of the blur, desperate, "Who _are you?_" But it was all a dream, and he couldn't interact with anything in the dream.

"I know its' been hard since they canceled us and stuff, but you can't just let yourself get run over like some prostitute taking your money and leaving you handcuffed to a Humdifier the morning after in some desolate poorly run motel in the middle of nowhere where no one can hear you _screamin'_... " said the blur. "But I'M not angry!" he stated, smiling.

This suddenly made Wile hunch his shoulders and grin- and he probably would've laughed too. The real Wile did, even though this entire scene was sad and he didn't know what was going on or why.

"I mean, come on, I'm still getting out there and making somethin' of myself, and you're here studying your butt off... I think...? What's with the dirt?"

The stoic jackal didn't move but pulled out a sign that read, (Gardening)

"Ugh!" the blur revolted, and _this _time, the blur turned into triangular shape that covered all in black downy feathers. The real Wile gasped.

The Blurry figure that appeared in almost every scene from his memory - Now even revealed to be the same _person _who replaced Wile as the "Head Water boy" for the College Football Team - his stand in, his unfortunate _lab partner_, his test subject who _ironically _was indirectly the cause of _Wile _being the end result and _SPLATTER-_victim, the person to whom Wile was indebted to as _well_...

Was an egotistic water fowl, a duck.

"Ugh!" the black duck cried in disgust. "Why get involved with a sissy thing like that?"

_FLIP_

(_Outdoor activity_)

The duck rolled his eyes, while the real Wile spent a good deal of time trying to remember the duck's name. For his own life, he couldn't remember. "Ya need a manly activity, ya know? The stuff that'll put some _HAIR _on your chest!"

Both Wile's blinked like they heard him use an eye-crossingly stupid phrase.

(_I have hair on my chest, I'm a coyote_)

"You sure ya couldn't go for somethin like basketball?"

(THEY ALWAYS CRUSH ME!)

The duck started snickering under his breath, while trying to hide his laughter. (It's NOT funny!)

"Are you kiddin! It's FUNNY cause Big Sneakers tend to make you flat as a pancake!"

Wile grabbed more chips and pulled out a sign that said, in very detailed, small text,

(_It's not the sneakers squishing me and breaking my spine, which is why I had to get 30 stitches later when I finally came out of the hospital in time for the test!_)

The duck pointed an accused finger at him yelling, "Weren't you on a stretcher? You could barely MOVE!"

Wile took a more boastful boldness in his holding of the signs saying,

(_I ALWAYS am prepared for a Test. Ergo, I passed. And all I had to do was move my one arm that wasn't crushed and/or bandaged in a cast_)

"Hmph! You only got a 90!"

Wile waved a finger in front of him and pulled another sign that read,

(_You, mean 100_. _You were dead last because not only did you not come in, you were caught sneaking glimpses of girls in the shower room via a hole you drilled in, using a powerdrill you snuck from the gym closet_)

The duck got worked up into an angry frenzy, and blushed a _hard red_. He screamed, "How do you KNOW ABOUT _THAT?"_

The clever jackal didn't do anything other than look smug and said,

(_I didn't know, you were just too predictable. And you just confirmed for me._)

The Duck was speechless as Wile continued

(_Anyways, I thought Gardening would be a nice change of pace- and to try out my MACHINES in gardening procedure_)

"Which ones?" the Duck spat out with a sarcastic spin. "The "Steering wheel sheerer blades that almost cut everybody's heads off, or OOH, _maybe _that "Automatic Manure Spreader" that send 800 pounds of stinky poo poo crashing into the window of the superintendent Dean's office?"

(_That was __**never **_**proven**!) Then Wile started to smell himself and _flipped _the sign. (_I reak. Taking a shower. Some of those Seniors dumped me into a carton of French cheeses_ and _Squirrel Manure after givin me a black eye_)

Duck just burst out laughing and rolled on the floor. He accidentally knocked over the bag of chips spilling the crumbly contents on the floor. Wile rolled his eyes and undid the buttons on his overalls headed for the restroom.

"Wow! That must've BEEN EMBARRASSING! hahahahaa!"

A Sign jumped out from beyond the doorway (since Wile was modest,) and it read,

(_I bet not as embarrassing as your first name._)

The duck read the sign, then his eyes falred with rage as he ran over to open doorway and yelled, "Now listen _here_, Buster! I thought I said not ta EVER bring up the topic about my first!"

The real Wile was still standing back and watching the whole scene, twisting up inside because it kept getting ridiculous. He wondered when the long trip literally down memory lane would end, just as he heard the whistling shower head go off. Real Wile remembered he usually opted for a cold to _warm _shower.

The memory of himself was standing in boxers and brushing his teeth while perfectly balancing another sign that read

(_Face it, "Duck Edgar Dumas Aloysius Dodgers" is LAMER than that Test Dummy I used to use before I used you!_)

The real Wile's eyes popped wide open upon the shocking revelation. _Dodgers_.

"And probably lamer than your jokes when you used to do stand ups!"

Wile was finished with brushing his teeth and then the next sign read as he stepped into the shower,

(_I'm not a very good comedian._) Once the curtain was drawn the boxers flew over onto the messy heap of gardening clothes. (_I needed the money_)

Dodgers took his place atop the top bunk while the real Wile was still watching him like a ghost, his mouth hung open and poised to stammer out an unintelligible statement.

_Dodgers is the figment I kept seeing in my memories. The noisy blur. He was also my dorm mate. _

Ironic that the person Wile used a test subject would attend the same college with him, but this was just _weird_. And the more he thought about it the more memories came flooding back like a breaking river, whereas the jackal was caught in the middle of the ebb and flow. He grit his teeth and he kept looking back at the little black duck sitting on the top bunk like he saw a ghost.

Dodgers wasn't very smart, nor was he competent. In fact, he was a real troublemaker, about as big as _he _was in both college and elementary. He was lazy while Wile was a hard worker, selfish because he kept eating HIS chips or stole any snacks that Wile tried hiding _away_, and easily suckered.

"He worked for me... and messed up most of _my _plans," Wile stated out loud, clammering over to gaze a little angrily at the avian. "I remember HE kept getting grease all over my blueprints, or he'd find SOME way to _bungle it all up!_" He was really yelling at the snoring face of the idiot duck, but he remembered that he was yelling at a figment.

_And Dodgers is someone who's probably dead. Been dead for quite a while, probably_. But this thought left Wile feeling cold.

Real had to jump back to allow the memory Wile to step past, who had just stepped out of the shower in towel.

Memory Wile then kneeled down and pulled out a second pair of boxers and slipped both on, and tossed the towel into his bag; but Wile's face frowned because it stank, because he rarely ever remembered to do his own laundry and he wondered why that was when an idea hit him. He went into his bottom bunk started scribbling on the wall.

_Wow. No wonder the cleaning staff kept yelling at me_. Except, he thought in a rare moment, it was completely justified- he couldn't have helped having moments of insightful genius!

Dodgers heard him and ducked down to see Wile writing on the wall. "What is your PROBLEM?"

(_I scribble equation on wall. They help with making machines._)

Dodgers scratched his head and said, "Oh, and DON'T think I'm all done with you TOSSING my name around!"

Wile didn't look like he really cared as much, still scribbling. He did flip a sign to say,

( _I've never said your actually name around the campus, have I?_)

"That's cause no one pays attention to ya when you speak!"

Wile shot another dirty glare at Dodgers before stopping and standing up. Then he opened his mouth for a yawn and scratched himself, and sat at the desk. He pulled out a piece of paper and started to write.

"What are you doin?"

(_Scribbling random notes_.)

"What, cause thinking gives you a hernia?"

Wile smugly pulled out another sign that read,

(_No_, _that only happens when talking with you_.)

"That's not true! I'm as smart as a whip!"

Wile's expression practically screamed "guffawing". (_You couldn't solve the crossword puzzles on the back of Kindergardener's deluxe Rainbow Munchie's Tofu cereals._) He continued writing.

Dodgers however, was not going to be dissuaded. He scoffed and _hunched _and then stated all hoity-toity, "The bright colors distract me. Besides, I don't see YOU doing any crosswords, _Ethelbert!_"

WACK!

Daffy started fumbling in pose cause he'd been whacked by one of Wile's signs. When his vision straightened, he met the angry stare of the dormmate who grabbed his scrawny neck, and yelled through all caps in his next sign, (_DON'T SAY THAT! __**EVER!**_)

"But that... ES...Your middul... _name_, esn't ET!"

Dodgers was dropped but Wile was still angry. Meanwhile, the _real _Wile was sitting in the corner, convorting in the same embarassed, furious manner- _Wow. Even after 3 Centuries that's something I'd rather I'd just forget. _

(_First of all, Dodgers, it's an embarrassing Middle name! I don't LIKE it when people know!_)

Dodgers had to catch his breath before he could talk again. "Your parents didn't seem to mind. They are some REALLY nice folks, for Carnivores! AT first I thought they were gonna eat me and stuff, plus their room decor leaves much to be desired- YEOWCH! _You stepped on my foot!_"

(_If you haven't noticed, my parents are pretty mild-mannered and senile._ _They called me back for specifically the PURPOSE of seeing if I had a friend they could humiliate me in front of!_)

"Huh. I thought they were just really nice folks!" Dodgers cheerfully replied. "They kinda reminded me of _mother_; they just as easily revolted when I told them that I could swallow a dozen raw eggs and onions in a cold bag somebody threw up in 2 years a-"

AT this point memory Wile covered Dodger's mouth cause already it was getting DISGUSTING to hear and he was going to throw up. The real Wile, still unseen, added in his two cents of, "I COMPLETELY forgot how Disgusting that WAS! Ugh, I _as soon as I wake up I'm going to go back to repressing THAT_, if anything."

Once Wile got himself back together, he said, via sign,

(_Moving swiftly along from THAT, if anything, SECOND, take a look at this_)

With that, Wile snatched a large stack of papers from his _desk_ and the real Wile also saw it; he remembered it was _The Bejing Times_, a regional magazine usually sent to China.

When the real Wile saw this his face lit up and he chuckled, "I DEFINITELY remember this! I always did these back whenever I got bored of making machines or just needed to kill the time by focusing the mind!" And he felt _really _proud of it too, which was why, for some reason, he sidled up with his Memory-Self looking and snorting a very haughty, proud air. The memory self then pulled up the edge of the paper, and the down the cluttered and incredibly long crossword pamphlet went, turning into a crazy pile on the floor.

However, Dodgers' had a dopey look on his face and he _didn't get _that the crosswords were in Chinese. "What exactly is that, chicken scratches? Ooh, the patterns must spell out a big word as to where the crossword puzzle is!" In excitement the stupid avian grabbed the actual puzzle and kept poking his head at each little square positive he was looking at pencil scratches. _Both _Wile's shook their heads as the dream one snatched the crossword patches out of the feathery idiot's greasy hands.

(_These AREN'T Chicken Scratches, you idiot! It's Mandarin and Yu interposed in a multi-graded, international crossword puzzle! Those are symbols for "Chicken" and "Box"._)

The real Wile phased through himself (A _weird _thing to happen) and looked at the sheet and then stated himself, "That _not Yu, that's Hakka!_"

"Wait, how exactly does THAT work?"

(_Well you'd need to take a lot rudimentary courses in Chinese and French, and then the rest is icing on the cake_)

"Not that, the part where you said that Chicken Scratches came from a Chicken _Box_," stated Dodgers. "I'm thinking, you're right, it should make sense since chicken's come from eggs, and now you're saying that Chicken comes from boxes, but I never would've imagined the the remains of Chicken scratches are perfectly preserved enough to be put into boxes!"

(... _What._)

There was an awkward silence before Wile pulled out another sign, to say,

(_You've lost me. I'm going to try and power through whatever you thought you said._)

Dodgers even lost steam himself on whatever happened, so he agreed to do the same. "Whatever floats your boat, sully."

(_I spend most of my time doing and solving extremely tedious difficult problems no NORMAL human can do! Math, or studying some languages and solving crosswords. Wait, "Sully"?_)

"Eh, studyings for da Birds," Dodgers scoffed, passing off Wile's _sign _with a wave of the hand. "I like just to wing it and never worry about consequence!"

Wile's face grew more serious and less than humoured. (_YOU'RE a Bird, aren't you?_ _You're using an oxymoron._)

Dodgers shot an accusing glare. "Woah, woah, woah NO, I'm NOT an Ox, buddy! I'm a DUCK! And Ox doesn't make any sense going with "DUCK" because... they don't go together or somethin'! And I MAY be a moron, but let me tell you somethin', Mister, but Dodgers' AIN'T no idiot!"

At this, both Memory Wile AND the _real _Wile darted flat eyes toward the audience. "ALSO, I don't need ta know chinese ta know... know..." Dodgers rolled his eyes trying to grope for an example, then took off his football helmet. "Whether it's right or wrong to use bombs to flush out all the moles from the School's Greenhouse!"

Wile sat down on his bunk, wide-eyed and grinning.

"You're not gonna say anything- you know what? Don't bother. But I have this killer idea; maybe when this all ends we can get the whole gang back together and do some comedic sketches again like the old days so that we can pay off all the loans. Ooh, or how about stuff like-!"

Wile felt more refreshed after nursing both body and eye- while it was that quick shower to begin with, he just wasn't daunted by any of the going ons of State U to begin with. Dodgers prattled on about things Wile didn't want to think about, but somehow his just being there left a pretty bizzare soothing air of complete calmness in where Wile's stress diminished- _not _in a weird way. Wile rubbed his nose and then reached down into his bag (which smelled just as bad as Dodgers' because neither had a particularly strong habit of washing clothes) to grab a book. Dodgers went on about how he was being trained by a "Specialist" wearing a funny mascot outfit that would appear to train Dodgers out of his wits, except that usually happened whenever Wile wasn't around.

How Dodgers got into the same college, _or _let alone, into the same bunking room as Wile and making more noise than what was wanted was a set unwelcome coincidences; but on _road_, in a screwed up sort of way, Dodgers came into Wile's life as some thick-skulled moron blissfully agreeing to become part of his _experiments_, and Wile pulled him along the way.

Wile forgot when that Then Dodgers started acting more independently, and standing for himself. That WAS a fascinating change! There wasn't much left for Wile to do for him, and he was set to making his _own career_.

" -Anyways, do you have _plans?_"

Wile stared up from the book.

"I mean plans after you graduate college! I mean I was planning to start up..." He pulled out an unusually detailed mini-model of a restaurant that had the name "Neighborly's in Neon Headlights". Literally, it was in Headlights! One of Wile's eyelids dropped. "... A CHAIN of _fast-food _restaurants! "NEIGHBORLY'S; the Friendly Neighborhood Burger's Provider!" Whaddya think?" Dodgers was grinning; he was really proud of it. Though Wile was wondering how Dodgers managed to hide all of that under his bulky Football costume, he scratched his fanny and then sat up to pull out a sign that read,

(_You could work on the Tagline._)

Dodgers nodded. "Yeah, I wasn't all too fond of the name. I was thinkin' "Neighborly's"? I don't wanna have a restaurant based around the concept of Horses _neighing_ in your ears all the time, because that gets annoying. I mean, think. If you want to eat pickles on your Burger, you can't enjoy it cause you'd have Horse "Landmines" set everywhere all over my BEAUTIFUL white _marble _floor, and then there's the cost of buying hays for all the horses in the restaurant, cause then people will want to stay away from the restaurant; there's also the chance I won't have enough funds to sponsor the drag races, the sanitation dept. will be on my back, and oh so bigger the issue will _be_ the running problem of _pickles shortage!_"

Wile may have been a genius, but not even the cognitive recesses of his brain could form a proper response to such an eye-crossingly stupid statement. So once again, he powered on through it.

(_I... what? Whose... you... and... its... uh..._)

"It's mind-numbingly intelligent, isn't it?" chuckled he. "So stupidly clever, I should be given a medal for coming up with the idea! We could MAKE BILLIONS!"

(_Where do the Pickles even COME IN-_)

_FLIP_

(_Wait. "Us?"_)

"Well _duh! I was_ planning to ask if you wanted to help me run the restaurant after we graduate!"

(_Do you even KNOW how to start a company?_)

Dodgers grinned from ear to ear as he replied, "I took a course for Dummies last year! It was ALL evening hours... ALL EVENING HOURS." (**Cue Close up To Dodger's Face, Showing Pure Signs of Insomnia**) "And I succeeded! As soon as I get my bachelors'... and my Mr. Squishy from out of mother's basement, I'll splurge all that moola I earned from the 2-year seminar for the Psychological Recovery for Crusty Sea Captains-that-can't-get-Over-Their-Whale-Phobia-to-Killer-Whales-in-the-South-Coast-Atlantic."

(_I don't understand_.)

"What's NOT to understand? I wanna do something good for people, and I passed the course... give or take fifty _tries_. Here's the textbook!" Dodgers pulled out a laughably _huge _volume from behind his back and handed it to Wile. The book's title was, "_Communications... For DUMMIES_, by _Omar Sharif_".

(_Wow had no idea_.)

"I ordered that book at the same time as my pamphlet on Ancient Ninja Weapon Mastery Techniques! Call me crazy," Dodgers said, "But I staring at this catalogue of weapons I got from spending another crazy Yom Kippur at that Larp-Party's Star Wars Play acting convention, and I was like, "Me and Nun-chucks? We click!" So I decided, what the hey?"

Wile's long _ears _kept twitching as he looked over the book like he was holding the epitaph for idiots while Dodgers seemed preoccupied with all the strange walls he'd run into with a restaurant run with _horses_. Then he looked at Wile again. He got struck with an odd question: "Uh, Wile, why are you just hanging out in your boxers?"

Wile lowered the book and stared incredulously at the thick-headed duck, then replied, (_Have you NOT noticed or are you just immune? It's practically 110 degrees outside!_)

A minute passed, and the next sign drawn out was,

(_And ... the Jocks kind of chucked most of my school wear and-_ )

_FLIP_

(_Most of my personal belongings into the putrid latrines! _)

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH! _Seriously? _Man you _ARE a loser!_"

(_At least I don't give shoved into lockers..._)

Daffy scoffed making a funny face. "Pfft, I'm _used _to it."

(_GIRLS' Lockers, Dodgers! Girl's lockers!_)

Daffy's eye twitched. (At the Bronto Burger's Restaurant for the Elderly.)

At this point Daffy flipped out, then leapt at and pummelled the unwary lanky jackal to the floor. "THAT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE, You _Und-DAH-staand!_"

It turned into a fight, but the fight was clearly one-sided, as Wile effortlessly pushed off the crazy duck, then dusted himself off. Wile caught his breath, which was the only thing he was able to do with his mouth, just getting in gulps of air.

(_That's getting less predictable... _)

FLIP

(_And more unoriginal every time you do it._)

"You AIN'Ts So _tough, yote! I could _lay a smackdown on yo' butt!"

(_You've flippantly proved that, which I mean, YOU DIDN'T._)

Wile staggered back over to his seat as Daffy kept ranting on, "What about that one time I totally _owned _this group of pussy Lightweights!"

Dully, a hand rose up with the sign that read, (_That bus of retired elderly people? No, if I recall..._)

FLIP

(_THEY kept whacking you upside the head with coin purses. Full of lead sticks._)

Daffy's shoulders kept hunching down and up in anger, and he was doing a "B-B-B-B-B-B" sound. But he chalked it up and realized some battles weren't easily won.

(_Also, they were on their way to Bronto Burgers where you got beat up, again! by the volunteer cheerleaders!_)

Daffy's expression lightened up like he was proud of something and cried, "Aha! That PROVES it!"

(_Proves what?_)

Daffy tossed himself back into his bunk and assumed a very confident position. "Fine, so maybe I can't BEAT you..."

Wile grinned smugly and grabbed papers off the small desk, looking them over while uninterestedly continuing the conversation. (_I'm capable of reducing your brain to acid... picking the locks off your "Secret Chest"..._)

FLIP

(_Getting straight A+'s on my reports..._)

FLIP

(_Hardwiring the cars of the Principal Secretaries so that I can have enough time to do last minute homework assignments.._.)

FLIP

(_And finding your secret stashes of pizza that you order using MY Credit._)

Daffy apprehensively peeked over the bed, got wide-eyed and squeaked, "How DID YOU-!"

Wile pointed out his long nose, then a sign, (Duh.)

Dodgers gathered himself together and boastfully remarked, "Oh, SO WHAT? I don't need a STRONG sense of smell like you! After all, I'M a Ladies man! And after all!"

Wile swung the chair around. (Okay...) Daffy jumped down and pointed a finger in his face. "I've got Charisma!"

(Only if it bit in the Nether region) was Wile's reply, but Daffy ignored him.

Wile was bending over and pulling out his bag of clothes, then pulled out a green short-sleeve with a Big "State U" in bold letters painted on top. That and also a pair of shorts. "No, seriously! I DO! I can persuade ANY girl to date me! The Girls are always falling for me! Check out my 5-o'clock TAN! Look at this MUSCLE! The ladies can't get enough of me!"

Wile sat back down again. (_You got BEATEN up twice! And you're able to convince yourself of this?_) Daffy was half _his _size, pasty faced, had 2 pimples only an inch down from where his lower eye lid ended, and he smelled positively _ghastly_, despite whatever he said.

Dodgers scoffed. "Hey! They are JUST resisting my charms is all! They come around... they ALWAYS do," he said, wringing his hands... menacingly while Wile was putting on sneakers, a very messy and faded pair. When he did, he pulled out a something from the second drawer which was an antique mini-radio that started playing horrible 70's music. "Hey, don't ignore me!"

(I totally wasn't!)

"Pfft, whatever you weirdo. When was the last time _you'd ever _been with a Girl? Or follow-up question, do you even _know _what its' like to KISS one? And don't give me the standard answer of, "Chemics"."

Wile frowned and said, (_Jennifer Soleil moved before I could've made my move_.)

Dodgers went on babbling, but then he screamed, "Wha-wha-what?"

Wile pulled out a picture, a very old one, and also a very humiliating one. Except that it wasn't so humiliating now; even though it pictured 12 year-old Wile getting fake Lava from a science experiment Volcano gone horribly wrong tossed into his face by Bully McBully the school Jock Bully at the time, then him mutilated and tossed into a basketball basket, it was a picture that included a sideshot of a raven-haired girl with cute freckles and pigtails also laughing at the pathetic coyote. Dodger's eyes went wide, as did the REAL Wile Ethelbert Coyote having the dream and falling dead speechless upon remembering this part of his memory. But he didn't make so much a sound, watching the whole scene.

Dodger's tongue hung out and he said with a goofy kind of lust, "What a LOOKER! You gonna get married?"

Wile's face fell somber. (_She didn't go to College. In fact, she's sort of just... moved on out of Acme Acres. I don't know where._)

_FLIP_

(_I had like, a crush on her since graduating Acme Elementary. She was sweet and kind and gentle.)_

"Looked more like she hung out with a bunch of bullies while watching you get beat up in ways unimaginably painful and/or just crazy," said Dodgers. He did _try _to be sympathetic, not needing to be a genius to figure out 2 and 2. Or 4 and 4. Obviously, he knew, this was the classic,

"Puppy Love...? You got gaga eyes and never made your move?"

(_Eh, well_. _She's human, I'm an anthro. A big, geeky, overalls-wearing anthro._)

"Definitely gonna agree with the "Geek" part," Dodgers stated, nodding his head. "But, _boy_, you'll probably never see another sweetheart like that, probably **Not for a million, jillion years**!"

The real Wile E. Coyote wearing the trenchcoat became fixated on Dodger's words. _Not for a million, Jillion Years._

(**A/N: FORE... SHADOWING!**)

The memory coyote made a mouth motion like a sigh and became engrossed into the picture. His face burned red _hot_. Or maybe that was just the _heat_; it was hotter than a frying pan out there! But anyways, he rose then pat Dodgers on the head in a friendly manner. (_You probably have a point, there_, Dodgers. _I mean I'm sure I'll find another is what you're saying?_)

"Pfft, I dunno. Dames. Can't figure them out. All I know for sure?" said Dodgers grabbing the can of body spray Wile was holding, "Is that _I'm _destined to be great and the fairest lady will probably be fawning over _MOI!_"

(_Yeah_) The Coyote signed off with sarcastic prose. (_But I have a funny feeling the only time you'll get a girlfriend will be someone out of this world!_)

Dodgers shot his own incredulous stare up at the Coyote who waved a finger lecturingly in front of the duck. "WHAT! Ew!"

There was an awkward silence, except for the low volume crazy 70's music from the radio. Dodgers saw this as convenient cue to exit, as he grabbed his Helmet. "Well, I'll uh... leave ya to brooding over a picture of a hot broad, I'm gonna go get some passing in, ya know, since it's suddenly turned evening over the entire course of our conversation. I've got a test in Ms. Shlock's Lampshading class."

(_Lampshading. Yeah._)

"But seriously, you could get out some more, man! When you've got the time, let's shake on down to the malt shop!"

Wile had already dived straight into the HUGE pile of books and literally had his nose to the grind of the pages. He did raise another sign that ditched all the snarkiness for a second, reading, (_Sure. I'll think about it._ _After I catch up on some studying how dirt decomposes the body when it dies. Take it easy, Daffy_.)

Dodger's eyes baunched and he stuck out his tongue and cried, "Ugh! That's just morbid! You ARE weird!" he laughed, but not in a mean way. Wile spotted it and didn't mind at all; he shot a morbidly crazy grin at Dodgers. But his entire expression suddenly changed into one of spetacular happiness when he realized what he just read on one of the signs. "Hey... you remembered my _college nickname!_ I always wanted to _try _something different than my dorky _thrr-_irst one."

Wile next sign read, (_So I did._)

"All jokes aside or somethin' at least _give _myoffer some thinkin' over," Dodgers' insisted. He looked genuinely _worried_ about the coyote, something the coyote couldn't believe. "Ladies dig a man who owns a restaurant, ya know, about as much as they dig a guy who's into law enforcement- OH GOSH!" the black avian suddenly screamed, staring at his watch. "I NEED to get to practice, and not waste time with stupid heartwarming wordplay!" With that he ran off.

Wile didn't know if he should feel touched or just confused, this offer coming from the same guy who repeatedly tried using most of his experiments for profit. So he went back to studying, the finals were coming and he couldn't afford to _crash_.

_I remember this part. I crunched and crunched. Because I was positive of suceeding. Honestly, I studied well into the night, and I was very tired by then. So I took a nap. Then I kept thinking over Dodger's offer. _

_Yeah_, _I'd thought it over._ _I'd thought it over plenty. I thought about it as much as Soleil. But I don't remember anything after this. I don't remember if I passed, or if I saw Dodgers' game. I probably won't and never will. Since he's dead._

_At least I know that I'm a genius, and I didn't bomb!_

And the dream ended there. Wile finally woke up, and when he did, the first of two surprises came hitting hard and hitting fast. The first of those was the fact that it wasn't just family or kin or _anybody _he knew of his species gone, but there was also the fact that Dodgers, a.k.a. "Daffy Duck" was long gone, and the one real friend he had had been dead for about 350 years.


	14. Happy Landings

Ironically the second thing to happen was when he thought of the word "bomb"

BOOM! His ship started rocking like was being bombarded by BOMBS!

"AAH! What's happening!" he screaming rocking and thumping along with the ship.

The rumbling didn't last very long; in the strange silence that followed, his head felt light and possibly _empty_. Worse, there was a moment where it wobbled, and then Wile, furry face and all, met the floor with astounding pressure.

_Man, what a knackered way to wake up!_

Both of the jackal's eyes darted to the green monitor; the screen was going through an extreme _turbulence_, appearing completely blurry. Wile saw multiple things flashing past the screen. Gigantic, irregular _things_ with bumpy, solid _edges_, barely recognizable in the vast blackness of space.

"Meteoroids?" Wile pondered, jumping back into the pilots seat and running a thorough scan on the screen. It was a close guess; but instead, they were about the size of Television Sets from the Forties, so he remembered.

More of them, varying in masses he couldn't begin to imagine, were clustered like bees in dusty levels that all followed some kind of set rotation that felt _directed _towards something out there they _may _or _may not _have been a source of heavy gravitational pull; In other words, he was wandering through an asteroid field.

The extreme pain Wile was feeling, augmented by his own malnourished frame... and the lack of anything _meaty_ in his stomach, was small in comparison to what he was seeing, and what seeing had revealed: The Solar System in the Milky Way Galaxy, according to the Agicalc, had an asteroid field that hung around a large portion of the space between the planets of Mars and Jupiter...

_NO, no, no, no, _Wile thought sadly, brushing the thought aside with an agitated frown. _That shouldn't actually be possible. I know it's getting my hopes up, but I can't be in the Solar System just yet. There's NO WAY... Given my extreme insomnia over the last 60 days, there's no telling how many days I've lost with... that really, really, really, CRAZY dream I had. _

_That and the idea of, "Oh gee, I passed out, now I'm suddenly there" doesn't really do it for me, that doesn't MAKE any sense. I mean, logically, I might be at the EDGE of the Milky Way Galaxy, but the Solar System is still light years away. I have NO idea what to expect. I could have just entered into a stray ASTEROID field. _

_And if I get HIT BY AN ASTEROID THE HULL WILL CRACK, and if the HULL CRACKS..._

At that point a poofy cloud vision jumped into his head that had an image of Wile's face, gone blue from lack of air and breath, and his eyes were inflating to a HUGE size, and the eyes were making a rubbery sound that indicated there were going to POP into BLOODY little pieces in a matter of seconds...

Of course the real Wile's body went cold and in a colossal burst of energy jumped up to the controls and holographic screen and _yelled_, "NUTS TO THAT!" He needed to get out of the asteroid field quickly!

Wile didn't commandeer the controls with frantic desperation like you'd think; but instead, the most he _could've _done at that moment was increase the speed of the thrusters, and pay _close _attention to the Holo-screen for any sudden movements of huge asteroid chunks; the thought of that just made his knees shake, like they were made of jelly.

The ship was ducking one or two medium-sized asteroids and _whipped _past a stray one that seemed to not be moving at all. From Wile's point of view it looked like an entire crust of a planet zooming past him; the Wolf was, in proportion, so feeble to the size of the asteroid, he was more like a flea traversing the back of a small mammal.

Inside, Wile used both his large feet to snatch the controls and then grabbed the handles controlling the wings. He started wedging both up and down in a "sideways" position to shift the balance of the ship _away _from more rocks.

The storm slightly intensified; despite all of his efforts, rocks no bigger than his head or larger than the pair of unfinished robot legs were pelting the ship and he could _feel _it. Arguably, the hull could hold against it, but Wile doubted as much as he shifted the horizontal lay of the wings to the _right _now, and the ship was taking more dives. More dives, then Wile saw a _bigger _asteroid coming up like a speedy ball, and he got desperate. The feet grabbing the controls turned them sharply to the right, as he did the wings, and the _Wolf _started doing an extreme _spin_ where it _swooped _down and lightly, _very, very _lightly scratched against the uneven surface of the asteroid.

"NNNNNNNGGGGGGGGHH!"

_!_

The hull of the ship now had multiple scratch marks on it, nasty ones, but they were barely threatening enough to have penetrated the hull. Inside a wriggly coyote was unable to hold onto the manual controls for the Wings, and he lost both control of them and the controllers. He fell off the chair and bumped his hard noggin against the metal wall, and cursed.

Wile shook out of the painful daze, jumped back into the chair and "glued" himself to the lucid green screen. His breathing picked up with demonic speed; fear was now gripping his whole body.

About 20% of the Wolf had been damaged, but nothing short of body "scratches" Wile could just buffer out. The more he'd get hit, then double the damage the ship'd sustain until it'd break! Seconds jumped into many, many minutes where Wile could hear nothing but the sound of his heavy breathing, and also the mashing of the controls. The ship was dodging and _swoooooping _multiple rocks the size of houses, the turbulence ridiculously harsh, and the bumpiness rivaling the sharp _shocks_ rocking his unbelievably facile nervous system.

There was also a moment where Wile thought he could see the end- oh, but that was like a MILLION leagues away or something! He needed a quick and easy exit...

Like a stroke of lightning, shit got real in that instant. Wile E. Coyote had a stroke of genius. He needed to have the ship target a proxy and the system would immediately _follow _it, tugging him in a slingshot motion that would pull him towards the wider edge of the storm and shoot him straight out of the storm. Too bad he absolutely NO idea WHAT to target!

_FFFFFWOOOOOOOOOOSSH_

_Huh...!/?_

He saw it. Shining as brightly as a large beacon in the depths of space, He wasn't sure what it was, and he rubbed both eyes to make sure he wasn't being delusional. The radar on the Wolf didn't pick up _anything _in proximity of the shuttle, but Wile guessed this strange source of _light _was most likely several hundred meters away, and the radar on the ship could detect anything almost a thousand yards away. There was this strange homing beacon of light that was almost _blinding_, and it was zipping across the lonely, but noisy chasm of space at a ridiculous speed.

It zoomed STRAIGHT into the Asteroid field, ricocheting from giant rock to giant rock; Wile dropped his mouth open since he'd already deigned that most of those irregularly sized killer boulders could flatten a planet in almost seconds.

"What is that...?" he breathed in a hoarse whisper.

There was no mistaking it was a comet, for it to be hurtling fast enough to have a gigantic bright field of _energy _surrounding it; but two things were out of place. For one, what kind of Meteoroid can just SLING from space rock to space rock?

Second, it didn't look like a regular kind of meteor.

_In hindsight, the Agicalc described them as large chunks of space rocks or falling debris of destroyed planets that after a set number of years gain speed after being drawn by an incredibly close, large field of gravity around an even greater object, _thought Wile, who was still manuevering the whole ship to dodge all that regular giant and small space rocks in the asteroid field. He needed to keep up his actions while simultaneously processing the thought; but the strain acted like a vicious backlash, making him pant, panic, _wheeze_, and let out a startled scream every couple of seconds. _I don't know what they're supposed to look like since I've never seen an image of one; but the Agicalc was never wrong. The movements of this particular Meteoroid, and I can't believe I'm thinking this, but they seem to be... GUIDED. The path is so irregular, interchanging and supercharged with each deceleration bumping straight back into a set velocity of almost 100,000 km/s, so unlikely, y-you'd think (ACK! stupid asteroids) something was steering it from the inside, or the rock had a mind of its own..._

Wile viciously shook his head when the next theory stuck fast, leaving him with a facet of terror.

_WAIT A MINUTE! Maybe.. that's..._

It caught fire, then he poured water on the fire. Given his situation, the hopelessness it posed, and equally hopeless futility of a hunch he had otherwise no way in hell kind of proof to concretely hinge his chances on escape. Anyone would've thought he was crazy. Said people he couldn't blame; half of what he was thinking didn't make ANY sense! Apart from space culture, Earth-current culture, histories, wars, events, and religious myths, Wile learned of the _age-old_ myth about UFOs and flying saucers.

That of course, didn't help any. Wile was 3 centuries and 9 years AHEAD into the future, and the Agicalc taught him everything related to the current _world _he almost inhabited, then _fled_. UFOs didn't have any credibility in this case, because with all the _spaceships_, interstellar _travel_ and technological advancement that was abundant of the planet the last time he ever _saw _it, UFOs would've been treated normally in the future!

In movement the bizzare anomaly had all the reflexes of some pro-athelete runner, which was stunning, even for Wile; the obvious impact it made with each rock it kept _bouncing _to and fro from was in a simultaneous and spontaneous fashion, almost like... _keen _reflexes. But t-this couldn't even be possible; it was, for lack of a better term, physically impossible.

The speedy comet was headed HIS way!... but seconds later it passed. Earlier, when only hundreds of meters apart from each other, something _clicked _in Wile E. Coyote's entire body like a building with all its' lights turned on simultaneously. He didn't want to admit it, heck, he was afraid of acknowledging what could be the truth, but there was no way to avoid the concrete evidence that he saw something inside the flaming, ricocheting rock.

WAS it? Assuming it WAS true, Wile thought, It blew all other posited theories out of the window, it perfectly _explained _the erratic behavior of the meteor, the negative likelihood of him encountering such a thing to begin with, and... his eyes couldn't be fooled. ASSUMING of course, that it was true.

Wile E. Coyote wanted more than anything to get out of the ring he managed to fly into like an ignoramus - now the want turned into a _need_, because at this point, another hit would've sent the inward hull of the ship interior splinting off. No more questions, Wile reached down for a side lever he had _installed _much earlier, and _pulled _it.

_CRANK!_

_ZING!_

The Ship launched a _giant _sized metallic hook, with a curve on the end, that shot out the length of twenty Football stadium yards to the strange, fast-moving comet. Wile didn't bother with semantics or what made sense or what _didn't_, no, he didn't bother with it at all. He was AFRAID of dying, just like when he had to "Fight" the Agicalc; so you can imagine how soaked with suns of DELIGHT he was (Hell, he practically SQUEALED a big fat squeal of happiness) when the hook, pointer, and 2 meters worth of extended rope and all, wrapped themselves around the giant comet, and Wile felt the Wolf _jerk_ as it was being tugged squarely away through the fierce meteor storm.

With a long, whipping dash, the ship was now catapulting with opposite motions to the Comet, like the seats of a ferris wheel. A puerile and insignificant way of looking at it, it was a _bumpy _ride. Wile could feel when the ship banged against multiple large rocks, creating hundreds of dents in the ship, though they were genuinely non-fatal, easily buffered. UP and DOWN, UP and DOWN, bump, bump, _BUMP! _Wile kept smashing his head up against the ceiling; the gambit of wrapping the hook around the comet was at best _the _worst risk he'd taken up to date (HA! He'd _show them! _They don't even know the meaning of the word!). He had NO idea the comet would be this _fast_, the ride so horrible on his aching bones and gaunt body frame!

The Comet LOOPED up and down in a cycle, than span, and Wile was on the receiving end of the craziest carnival ride where he didn't have the luxury of throwing up. His head felt like it was going to _fly _off, due to the _magnificent _drop the ship took, evading a rock the size of which a brain-splatter would look about as noticeable as a _fly's _splattered remains on it. Shocking pain seized his head for the bitter moments where the ship was being tugged in a straight line, then the monitor went into _flat_ static, and Wile, exhausted to the point of not caring if died, let the tears fall out, he a slave to the whims of an option he chose out of desperation, and peacefully welcomed the reprieve of the settling _blackness._

Wile did come to terms with the silence, alarmingly deplorable as it was.

He wondered if this was what death felt like - no pain, no sensation, no tangible form of thought. Nothing seemed to stop him from stepping outside of himself, and speaking as though he were speaking to the dead.

"I'm about as free as any one being can be, but I seem to have reached an unparalleled level of serenity with the bleakness of the situation as it appears- I traveled only so far so that, if I been blessed with the knowledge of what it was that happened to them, I could remain a free man."

"I don't see the ending note that signals the futility of any mortal's struggle of life, the grim reaper. That's odd."

"Come to think of it, maybe all this surmounted to the building stress in my body and that's why what happened happened; I must have fallen comatose. Had I REALLY let it stress me out? Do I not fear enough for my own life?"

"..."

"Impossible! How UTTERLY **Impossible**."

"I WILL not believe it! I've taken BIGGER risks than these! I will not be undone by such an unsettling and unacceptably puerile manner as dying alone in the depths of space! Even HUNGER shall not claim me! I..." his annoucement flared brighter than fire. "Of all its fancies and fanatical follies I wish to experience, _death _will be last. NO. The universe will have to expedite the time it should see the last of me."

This epiphany, for whatever reason, caused himself to be aware of how many injuries his body had sustained. His body was in terrible shape, from neck to lower parts. But there was more. He was very serious when he considered the better of two possibilities where he was still very much alive.

"And WHAT of me talking? Maybe from delusion, I'm suffering for it in a heightened conscious-sensitive phenomenon... awareness. An unlimited level of focus and thought. This thought can't exist unless I am still alive."

"... And... and..."

For the real first time in over 60 days of bitter hunger pains, unwarranted nostalgia and recovery of his lost memories, Wile welcomed back the pain. The dark slowly went away. Wile breathed in and out, very slowly, the life-giving confined coldness audibly flowing into his body. He thought he heard noisy birds swarming around his head.

The ship hadn't exploded, the air was breathable, and he could feel the cold of the ship's _grimy_, and slick metal interior on his bony back. Observation was a _real _gift; Wile sighed in huge relief, then _panicked_, because he had no idea how long he'd been knocked out, or _what happened _in that period. So he scrambled, _slipped _and fell flat on his face, scrambled up AGAIN, rushed over to the seat, and started flying over the keys to bring up the visual screens.

Wile's mind made astounding impact into wall after _wall_; how long _had _he been out? _Possibly seconds! MINUTES!... Hours? _The ship, was it out of fuel? Damned if he didn't already expect it. His brain rattled, creating strain, and his eyes kept darting up and down from _board _to screen. _If the ship had no fuel_, he was stuck; _fuel for nightmare_, he thought to himself. _Stuck in Outer Space, God KNOWS when any thing will come out this way! Okay, no, I'm clearly OVER-THINKING this. I need to calm down. The static is overlapping the screen, it's annoying and I must get it off the screen._

He agreed with himself; he was working overtime just to make himself _panic_. Best to just leave all the worst-case scenarios _behind _him and not lose concentration.

How could he _help _it? The more time passed, the more it felt like he was _going _nowhere at ALL...

Actually, It didn't feel like he _was_ moving at all. In fact, right as he restored 70% of the small operating systems' visual connection, the thought had just snuck up from behind him that his entire _perspective _of the ship's interior felt... slanted. Slightly, slightly slanted.

After several minutes of messing with the controls, the holo-projection program Wile designed himself gave a clear indication what exactly he was dealing with. Though the coyote was trembling; he was going to _hate _it if he'd been stranded on top of large asteroid or something _stupid_. And he didn't have enough to work with _inside_ to create a spacesuit capable of letting him attempt to alter the situation from _outside_.

His mouth fell open and it hit the floor; he turned off the screen, and had _one _long seizure before turning around, heaving the massive mess of discarded _dead bug carcasses_ aside and kicked the two doors open. He did this...

... To get in a massive gulp of _fresh air _to his worn lungs.

Wile could hardly believe it. He was standing at the top of what was a large cliff, the ship was perched on an edge, possibly would've fallen if he stayed in there any longer. The flat plain of land he was standing on was a fertile dirt and grass spotted landmass that covered by stones and sparse jungle.

Undoing the buttons on his coat, Wile just _had _to get in the "taste" of the mild humidity, the fresh air, and solid, _brown _earth. He kissed it, lapped it up on his tongue, then started spitting out the dirt, remembering how stupid that was. Bu t the taste of the earth- it was solid EARTH! And _very _dusty! Something in his suppressed animal instinct _kicked _in, causing the coyote to also undo his pants, and roll around in the dirt, panting uncontrollably hard as felt all that wonderful _solidness _take over. For someone as gentlemanly, polite, and cultured as _he was_, this was step down to crazy.

But all he could think of at that moment was the ECSTATIC feeling of freedom from being confined in a tiny space craft, 60 Days worth of suppressed _happiness_, haunting memories, and starvation, all _gone. He made it, _he realized, revelling in the amazing _sight _of the _BLUE skies_, solid brown earth, and his half-naked form wildly rolling in the dirt like a happy pup.

_Earth, earth, GLORIOUS SOLID DIRT, My LONG trip back to EARTH is FINALLY... _

The bliss that came with this particular thought and Wile's frantic and somewhat "Doggy" actions were cut short when a spear got shoved right in front of his face. He grit his teeth in dumb surprise.

"Uh-oh."


	15. The Fongoids

**1 Month Later**

Mori gleefully did a magnificent spin as she jumped down from the giant arching tree, whose falling leaves leaned and willowy shade fluttered gracefully in the wind. One hand touched the ground on _impact_, the other carried a plump, tropical-green fruit that looked positively ready to burst. She was cautious, but she was curious too, because she was 7 years old, and she loved collecting fruits ready for the harvest.

Oh yes. _Harvest time; _the thought made her incredibly excited. She could barely contain her joy!

She looked around for her basket, handknit by Mori personally. She thought _Oh, there it is!_ and smiled because it already had tons of nice fruit sitting at the bottom of the basket, all surrounded by a material a little more sturdier basket weed, more resilient than wood. She dropped her fruit into the basket, then saw a butterfly cross her path. She could see it clear as day. It was all glowy in the wings, and shimmered like a pretty crystal... so pretty. In fact, she was so taken off by it's sudden appearance she yelled, "Ooh, look, a butterfly!" and ran off after it, till she accidentally tripped, knocking the basket off the incredibly high ledge. Her chubby, gay face was so alit by the pretty sight of the butterfly she almost didn't notice. Then, without even thinking, she jumped over and AFTER it too!

Normal circumstanes dictate that yes, she would've died from falling from so great a height. It was a thousand meter drop. Into churning bubbling waters of a scenic, if not dangerous area called "Cauldron Pool", which was mostly turbulent all year round.

Except she was STILL hanging up in midair and so was her basket, which she reached out for easily with a stubby swing of her pudgy arm. She'd fallen into a weird phenomenon that was like a green sphere that was all glowy and... kept her from falling into the ravine. She sighed, then clutched her basket of fruits, and started to grunt _really _hard. A "ripple" appeared underneath her feet, and she levitated right back to the top of the cliff. She took a moment to breathe. She almost died, and she knew messing with time in _that _manner was a risky manoeuvre.

Yes. She messed with time! (DUN! DUN! DUN!)

But Mori was 7 years in the making. She'd only been taught to do small tricks as freezing herself in the air... messing with time in the _sense _of literally moving oneself, body, soul, and all through a past subspace, retaining all physical molecules in the matricoid anatomy of her body, and landing from a PRESENT time to a completely different, possibly underdeveloped PAST one was beyond her skill, or imagination. The thought was pretty exciting.

The Chief Elder was probably the only one who knew anything about THAT particular sort of power.

"Woah..." she droned, gazing slightly down the 1000 foot drop over the cliff.

Good thing she was of the fongoid race. She took great comfort in this thinking as she snatched the basket and skipped merrily along, over the bridge and down a long winding slope that ran around a giant rock behind which her village lay.

Mori went home, and jumped into her mother's arms, then held her basket of goodies like a prize trophy. She talked to her mother about what happened, and her mother looked like she would've fainted, but she was so calm about it you could have hardly believed she'd be shocked to hear anything at all. Because getting trapped into a small _time flux_ like that was a very common thing to happen for Fongoids, the keepers of time themselves. A very simple yet peaceful race that sought unity and peace in nature.

Mori was famished, and when an opportunity came, she snuck one of fruits, and one of her friends came over, a chubby little acquaintance named Gend who hung out with a frailer looking Fongoid child named Deuce who couldn't stop shivering anywhere he went.

"Gend! Deuce! I got to mess with a Time Bubble; I was caught IN one!" she announced when they were out of earshot of the town and all decided to sit by a small creek 1 mile away from the west bridge that entered the city. It was a dry little ravine that ran down to other rivers, spanning areas that the Fongoids never explored.

Gend was a power-hungry, sometimes inept little boy with curled horns and ruby eyes that sparkled like flame. Despite this, he was incredibly intelligent, and was the second most well-informed about the legend of the Zoni and the Time Fields, next to their tribe leader. "You mad out of your mind, lil' melon. How you survive something that harrowing?"

"I did. It was WEIRD!" she burst out laughing joyously, happy to remember that she was still very much alive to tell the tale. Runty little Deuce was the exact opposite, he shivered and his voice choked whenever he tried talking, especially now since for all he knew, the Mori he was talking to was a ghost.

"Don't get all worried! I survived, Deuce, I was just messing with the Time fracture, and it happened, but I'm okay!"

"B-b-b-b-but that's d-d-daaaaAAANgerous!" he vehemently stammered, jabbing a finger at her. "Y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-YOU c-c-could-d've been KILLED!" But of course, Mori scoffed, while plump, bigger Gend stated that Deuce was declaring that, "You're overreactin'. Nobody dies, they just get sent to a different time frame!"

Mori looked up at Gend in excitement. "Really?" She cried.

"Yeah! My Dad says so! Dad's ALWAYS right!" he yelled. The yell had a slightly shrillish "Tic" to it because Fongoids had a bizzare vocal anatomy growth pattern. Mori lay her head back down on the sand looking deflated. "Aw, you're just saying that cause he's the leader and stuff!" she exclaimed. "You don't really know cause your Dad is a tool!"

This turned into a berserk button for Gend, who shot up and went on a tirade about girls thinking they know everything, then explained in unnecessary detail about how his Dad was the wisest cause he knows better than anyone that there was something to be gained by not playing with fire. Mori was still under a lot of scepticism.

"... _every _Fongoid knows if you keep going back into the past, you'll make paradoxes, then paradoxes will build up, and the universe as we know it will be destroyed! And if you survived long enough to see it get destroyed, the TIME GHOST WILL HAUNT YOU FOR ETERNITY!"

Deuce's lower lip quivered in the wake of Gend's booming voice, while Mori looked as unfazed as ever. "Now I KNOW you made up that last part," she snickered. "Who ever heard of a "Time Ghost" haunting you for destroying the universe! That's STUPID!"

"No, it's not! It's not! He really does know that to be truth! They're as real as-"

"A Five-polymorphed shell, probably," Mori tossed in for a laugh. This was short-lived when 3 seconds later, Gend tackled Mori onto the ground. They rolled over and wrestled, and unlike most things, Deuce actually wasn't all that _worried _about when they fought each other. Any time they fought it ended in a big stalemate.

In the onset, it always looked like Mori would've won. Arguments between 2 out of the three always ended that way. It lead one to wonder why or how exactly 3 friends kept inexplicably coming back to hang out with each other if that was the case.

Mori wasn't stupid; but she really didn't know how to end an argument or anything like that, so she stood silently as Gend stood back up and yelled, "My Dad's always right! And, a-and also you are a big dookiehead! Also, you're gonna get hurt someday, i-if you still do that stuff!"

"I can mess with time easily," said she, puffing up her small chest and sporting a proud and cute-looking grin. "I did it today, and I bet I can totally do it again!"

Gend shook his head. Duece worriedly wanted peace between the two, but sadly, the current was carrying this raft down a rapid stream. "You always put yourself in d-danger, Mori. Why? I mean there was that incident where you deface one of the statues of the great second Elders of Morklon, by tossing fruit at the chins!"

"OH, yes," she chuckled snarkly, remembering how she fired off all that fruit she handpicked herself. "I remember that. Those "Second Elders of DORK-lon ain't so grey _anymore_."

"They were important _m-momuments!_" Deuce stammered.

"Yeah," Mori scoffed. "Of _another, different planet._ _We _live on Quantos."

"Yeah, AND that time you... you made all those herd of Blacheroic rhinoceros go insane and chase off that entire beach full of wild geese," Duece said.

"Birds are stupid, and you know it. Just like how I kicked our teacher in the nads!"

Gend shook his head. "WHAT! N-no. Hold on a minute. How exactly did you make them go INSANE? Wait. You DIDN'T...!"

The she-fongoid's mysterious smile widened. "I did. Everyone knows that a Blacheroic Rhinoceros don't like their food nest disturbed, so their natural response to disrupt the natural peace of a smaller group of beings on lower planes. Heh, he... ahhhh. It wasn't _easy_, let me tell you!"

"... you KICKED our Teacher in the nads! Why? When?" Duece cried, before exclaiming, "Oh w-wait a minute! Was it because he punished you for switching out his and another one of parent's child fongoid's fruit lunch for _Blargian_ _peeled skin_?"

Mori acted surprised. "I'm not angry about that! I've completely forgotten about it! NO, it was for that stupid lesson about the "Tryrranoids and the Bees" thing he gave us the other day... Never been so CONFUSED in my life? I mean, what kind of teachers do we have that our parents entrust us to?"

"Well," Gend agreed. "That stuff he said was confusing... a-and I hardly see how that has anything to do with how the great Snork appears to our parents to give us as babies to'em... but you can't go doin' bad stuff to everybody!"

"But it's fun! You act so soft sometimes!" she said, spreading out her pudgy arms, "Get EDGY! Get HARD! You have to open yourself up to exciting adventures!" Then she took several steps _away _from them towards the river. "That's this planet's _problem_! It's... It's just... too _boring_. I mean, the tiny glimmer excitement that makes for the highlight of my day is when things like encountering that "Time Anomaly" happen to me. I think that is the best thing I've ever seen on this planet!... But I always sort of wish more." then in a quicker tone she added, "And DON'T COMPARE to those fairy tale princesses! I'm tougher than THAT! The point is, all you ever do around here is wake up, learn, eat, sleep, play hide and seek, get told that you can't go far, or that you can't... CAN'T mess with things you shouldn't understand... I think that's just stupid."

Gend had little clue what she meant and scratched his head. Deuce didn't attempt to ask. Mori lowered both pudgy arms, took offense and then her face twisted up the way your face usually would when you feel like you're a carrot in a crowd of cabbages. Most girls would've cried; Mori was so tomboyish, she didn't cry, maybe she'd get frightened a _little _sometimes but she'd never cried.

"You guys wouldn't understand," she finished, not really surprised- at least, not looking like it.

Gend shook his head, then found a huge nerve. "Wow, Mori. You're weird!"

Per usual, Deuce rose to her defense, and admonished the idiotic Gend by saying, "Y-You know, she'll tell her parents, and they'll tell _yours_!"

Mori rolled her eyes and commented, "Mom's okay. But she's just a parent... She's not even my _real _one."

Duece never heard this before! Though, Gend was unfazed. "You never heard, Deuce? She's adopted! And you know what? _That_'s why she does all that bad' stuff!"

Deuce was surprised, but he wasn't like Gend at all. If this was common knowledge, he was surprised he didn't hear anything about it. He wondered how Gend found out...

"I really don't think that's nice, Gend!"

Deuce must have been getting a backbone, now not content simply standing by. But Gend went on to say that if Mori was crazy and stupid like a "Florana Dung Beetle" if she insisted on dreaming dangerous adventures outside the known safety of the Fongoid race. Mori didn't continue standing around any further and left. Deuce remained, backbone weakening, when he badly wanted to say that Gend's bad choice of words didn't help, and maybe Mori was going to leave them.

Meanwhile Mori wasn't really all that fazed by what either had to say or think, and she certainly didn't care. She picked a fine opening to leave.

But to where? She'd get punished again by the elders if any more mishaps had taken place. The thought just made her feel revulsive.

Even worse, the fact that she was going to have to go through another whole day of the same thing, and she eventually going to have to reconcile herself to Gend and Deuce, even though she really didn't give him a chance to let'm explain himself. But Gend? Good GRIEF. How dare HE make comments to her like that, just cause his dad was the tribe leader! Like he expected _her _to care.

She yawned. She was tired. It was close to nightfall, when the stars would fly out in a shower, but she found nothing special with that, because that happened almost every night.

She was walking through the town. It was a scarcely built up collection of variously sized stone, mortar, and straw huts all centered around the central hut which was the housing of Alpheus.

There was nobody out during the evening hours- but some nights you see one or two of the tribes-people walking about. Town meetings were only ever held during the evening hours, and this was a surprisingly rare occurrence. It happened because the leaders, and second-in-commands and people under them were to discuss what to do about agriculture, price tax in their meager little market, or the safety of all the youths. (And also the local Mini-Golf Tournaments were a big cop out. Only Adults got to play. The Tots Division was just stupid, with kids who knew little to nothing about Mini-golf!) It wouldn't have mattered, after all, _what _threatened them? What did they have to worry about? Steep mountain climbs on those silly field trips? The key livestock they fence away out of _anybody's _view?

This silly tribe even had its' very own _jail_. But as long as Mori was around, that jail was empty, a long-standing testament to how incredibly tame and so disgustingly happy and safe the town was. It was two miles awayfrom her home.

Mori decided to go have a look, since there was nothing waiting for her at home. she turned right at the the next block. Had she turned left, she would've gone down a steep slope before reaching the start of a path that would have ended at curve overlooking a clifface; before all that was the hut, her home. To right was a rising path that let into one the village's many large circular court clearings. Just to the North-east, was the jail. Unlike all the other times where if it stood empty, and nobody would be there, there were actually a couple standing there. That was strange.

It was two adult fongoids, so Mori guessed they were the tribe's "Security". Quantos security were as linear as the planet they were on felt as isolated from _them_. The most efficient equipment any of the security would have were their trademark spears, coated with a thin solvent of, you guessed it, blargian cockroach acid samples. (Keep out of reach of children) They notice Mori, but she overheard,

"... Man I CAN'T miss that dancing festival by the fires... Well, looks like he isn't doing anything... he looks so scraggly and somewhat odd!"

The other guy had a dopey-sounding voice, "Well, file this in for a report, and inform da CHE-if... we gots to prepare our guest with the "surprise"!" Off they went.

Mori looked suspiciously after them before deciding to have a look in the cage. This was no easy task because, tough as she was, she was a half-pint. She tried jumping up to look past the bars, it failed- So she went all the way around the back (how incredibly LAX security must have been to not leave behind someone to keep unwanted visitors out) and there was a big rock below the second set of bars looking into the cage. Mori jumped up, looked both ways to make sure nobody was watching, and peeked in.

Annnnnnnd... it was dark inside, she couldn't see a thing! She was getting impatient, because for the first time, they actually had someone commit a _real _crime in the village, (Someone besides her, whose antics were only second nature) and clearly dangerous enough to have need to be incarcerated.

_But what crime did this guy commit then? Makin one of da elders miss a shot at Golf? Give me a BREAK. I have to see this to believe it!_

She really wanted to laugh, but she didn't want to give herself away. She decided to do the only sensible, possible _thing_. Attempt to open the front door.

From away there were drum beats, and she recognized them as a another tribe dancing festival immediately. She could even see the dim light of a cheery fire: YES! Perfect! Now a complete distraction to anyone who'd think about walking by the jailcell, since the Jail was in the complete opposite direction of the fire.

She ran right back around to the front, then _stopped_, and ducked right back around to the side. More fongoid tribe members were running past, making "plod-plod" sounds on the soft dirt, towards the direction of the fire. They looked incredibly excited. She couldn't understand what they were excited about; another screwy session of dancing in circles in the early moonlight.

Nothing sounded more _weak_ and boring than that.

But here was a funny aneurysm moment: she went right back to the front of the door, and all the time grabbing and holding the handle she expected it to be locked firmly... she tugged it ever so lightly, and it creaked open. Yep, the Fongoid security was top notch.

She wasn't one for wasting opportunities and didn't stand outside long-enough for anyone to actually see her and then have reported to the chief. She dived in, then closed the door behind her. Not completely because she needed the light; she could barely see anything!

Now only a feet away from her a cage, and in that cage, sat something with a weird shape. The funny thing was she could make out an incredibly long nose, gigantic-looking stalky "ears", and a chest. She could hear a long, depressed sigh, and then a sound like the thing was lying down.

Her mind worked fast: that thing in the cage was _not _a fongoid in the slightest, because from the pitch of the voice, it sounded like it only had _two _lungs. Fongoid anatomy, she remembered showed that Fongoids were either blessed with 3 or 5 lungs, or if some babies were incredibly lucky, 10 lungs. Something was _wrong here_.

"Hey! Who are you?" she beckoned. She stood shock still: The thing rose up like lightning, and focused its' attention on _her_. At the same time, her mind raced with questions smacking in the head repeatedly. The possibility that this creature spoke another language; or maybe it spit out some kind of alien acid that burned faces off... or was a shapeshifting monster!... but that's impossible, because the security of Quantos would _never _had caught it. Did it have secret _abilities_ or something? Would it even understand her?

She started sweating _badly_ from all the gross ideas formed by said questions, implausible if they were, unlikely if they had been.

_What's the matter girl? Toughen UP! You're not afraid of THIS freak! It's locked behind the cages!_

That thought was less than comforting. But she didn't have anything to fear seconds after hearing the voice of stranger from inside the cage.

"Um, if it's no trouble, I don't... mind the accommodations, but I'd like to just leave this place, _please_."


	16. Wile Meets His Match

**1 month ago, and 5 Hours earlier in the Day**

Wile didn't know what to make of his world getting literally flipped after having both hands and legs tied to a pole. He knew this was the method of binding enemy threats to a tribe.

The creatures were sure weird! curved horns, purple faces, yellow eyes... _actually _they weren't all that weird, given the way _he _must have appeared to them. The ship in which he crashed had also been _taken_.

There was no use SCREAMING about it either. They didn't harm him unless he bared fangs at 'em, and he didn't. They had long sharpened spears with a green liquid splattered on the tip. (If this was a method of adding a more damaging effect to the spears, they failed in this regard.)

The only shame Wile had about any of this was that hey happened to catch him in his underwear.

A beautiful, but primitive collection of huts that had such a royal nature about them awaited the troupe and their trophy catch, when they walked down a steep slope underneath a gigantic _thicket _of bushes and giant pink-colored palm leaves. The trees grew irregularly, and all around the town, almost literally blanketing it. But right now, All a hung Wile could do was stare dumbly into the sky; oh if only they undid his hands and feet! He wasn't the slightest bit upset by being caught. If anything, he REALLY hoped that he could stretch out his legs!

He forgot that he was captured by some unknown tribe race, now he just wanted the opportunity to see what kind of planet this _was_. He wanted to see what kind of technology there was that they had. And on top of all of that, FOOD. Oh, how he wanted _food_. (Something besides cockroach carcasses)

These aliens seemed pretty ecstatic about catching him though... They didn't even look like a very hostile race!

Wile was taken up to a large clearing where the aliens were holding some kind of bizzare meeting; aliens of all the same species, but of such different sizes and shapes and expressions were surrounding the miserable coyote left, right and center...

Then one of them, a slightly more decorated, more official-looking individual with a crown of flowers on his head, and carrying a weird-looking staff, stepped up on top of a podium (If you could call it such since the size of one of those, looked remarkably like a soapbox) and started to speak to the mildly excited-sounding crowd. Wile didn't understand any of it, but something about all of this felt weird to him. And that leader's lip movement made him think that if he spoke english, he would've done so on the spot.

The leader didn't sound angry; there were traces of a smile on his face, like he was building the anticipation of some exciting event that was common to the tribe. He kept making hand gestures to the jackal, and also, he kept accidentally whacking him in the face with the staff, till he began to see stars and his eyes would go loop-de-loop.

Dizzy Wile muttered wearily, "I-I'm da KING of Franceshire!"

The leader was done, but it wasn't over. Once the loud cheers and yells of the entire tribe died out, the leader pointed his staff in the direction of another secluded spot behind the _largest _hut. the Jackal was brought over there. Then put into a not so very secure cell, with all the elasticity of stringy noodles. Something about all of this was so tame, like it took an incredibly LONG time for a man to write a story and he was just copping out for some loosely tied backstory exposition. The last thing to happen was the guards muttering unfavorably at the coyote before a couple of females brought in a bail of a watery substance, lined with prickly needles and had steam rising from it. Wile didn't need to be a genius to figure out what was coming next!

SPLASH!

"YEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOWW!"

**A Good many hours of what would have been DECENT Character development, and or exposition LATER ~**

"Turns out- OH! -" yelped the snivelling jackal still rubbing his fanny. "It was a cleaning acid. The kind used for ceremonial "cleansing", ouch."

Mori laughed, not so hard, because she didn't want to be discovered. "hahahahah! ah... Yeah, that's Blorgian Blood acid. It's corosive, but amazingly THIN. It couldn't crack the steel crumplers on the absorbing point zones in the city's walls, and THOSE walls are really faulty!"

"Mori, was it?" said the jackal after a long silence, "you're a very energetic type, aren't you?" He was smiling, and she smiled back.

Mori was flattered spectacularly. And taken aback. Heavily. Only half an hour into their strange back and forth conversation did she not hear once anyone belittle her, but instead, she'd been uplifted. She was _not _used to that. Certainly not from a thing that was not the same species as her own. Wile E. Coyote didn't seem strange or hostile at all; in fact, he didn't look very threatening, certainly not enough to be thrown in a poorly built prison cell manhandled by poorly placed temp-guards.

Mori was so open to the idea of intelligent beings from space, and had so many questions, with nowhere to begin; and _he _was one, which doubled her excitement... maybe she could finally know _more _about what's out there.

"What's it like?" she asked.

Off-guarded, Wile instinctively raised a sign that read, (what?)

"Y-You're an alien, right? I SO want to know more! W-what's out there in space? Other planets? What species are YOU?" Her voice rose above a whisper, but luckily nobody but the two of them were around. Then it fell down in, "A-and... how'd you get here?"

Wile was no open book, but the only person who seemed to act very genially towards him had to be better than a thousand horned tribesmen with scary-looking spears against his struggling ribcage. "I'm the one who should be asking you, my dear. What _exactly _is your race called?"

Mori puffed her cheeks in deflated vigor but answered, gruffly, "... Well, me? My entire race is... Fooon-goids. We're a very muddy, overly perky, and boring kind of race, that's all. The Fongoids, we, our ancestors worshipped a rare being called _Zoni_, pure electricity that could manipulate Time. Now you?"

Preoccupied in what she said, the now more than interested jackal crawled closer to the cage bars. Any other member of the fongoid race would've just backed off from being close to the cages. Mori didn't, because she was just too _keen_ on Wile. Now she saw Wile's face better; he looked so... _gentlemanly_, except run-ragged, clueless, and honestly, overblown/exaggerated for some reason. But hey, he had a nice sounding voice, 'cept it almost sounded artificial for yet another unknown reason.

"A Coyote is what I am, my dear. I'm from a planet called Earth, but... somehow I left it, and now I'm trying to get _back _there. I was another planet previously, but it was about to be swallowed by a black hole, and then I built a craft that let me depart it. Then it crashed here, and I really would like to get back the craft so I could leave the planet," he said. "Uh... something wrong?" he asked, not sure what to make of Mori's wide open mouth and toothy grin.

Mori didn't mince the next, "Take me WITH YOU! I want to see the universe! Meet new people! It'd be really cool!"

Wile was many things, but NOT a monster, and his answer was, "No! Absolutely not! I would never do that to a child!"

"Come ON!"

"No! It'd be dangerous! You have NO idea what's out there!"

"I wouldn't, sure, but that's why I want to get out there so I can find out! Mr. Wile, you don't know how BORING it is on this planet!"

"But you have loving parents, don't yo-?" He was cut short by Mori's deadpan stare. Wile clumsily ran into awkward stammering; it hit home: Mori was an orphan. Or at the very least, she had a guardian not related in blood to her. All the more reason he _didn't _plan on bringing her in.

"Your _tribe_," he tried again, steering away from the issue of Mori's origins, "Would miss you, wouldn't they?"

"No," she said plainly.

"Huh?"

"I've pulled crazy stunts. switched my teacher's water for Florana Dung Beetle goop, let loose Bull blorgians, Tied kids shoes together... "

_I see, a trouble maker_, Wile thought to himself.

Mori started to beam a little then clutched the bars of his cage excitedly. "Sooo, take me with you?"

Wile folded his arms and assumed an indian pose. "NO." he said sternly.

"Pretty pwease?" she pleaded, making puppy eyes, which really stunned the coyote, since in _some _sense, he was like a dog himself. "NO."

"I'll let you out of the cage!" Mori's argument went from emotional to bartering.

Wile would've liked that, but then he'd be indebted to a little alien girl he had no business getting mixed up with. Despite being desperate for escape, he did the only logical thing and turned his back to her. "Hmmph!" he said.

Mori dejectedly, but angrily, let go of the cage, and proceeded to turn around towards the door. She sat on the ground huffing and sighing, but Wile was too mature to be taken in so easily. Finally, Mori gave up. She got up and left through the door. (Remember, NOBODY was guarding it) She started crying, "I knew lots of cool stuff about manipulating _time _too, but I ain't telling you any _now!_" Little did the jackal know she was really faking it; really well, too, as a matter of fact.

Wile's eyes popped wide as saucers. He jumped at the bars and yelled, "W-Wait a minute!"

Mori stopped cold in her tracks, and sensed he _took _the bait; she still had her balled. "What?" she spat.

"Did you say something about "Time"?" he asked.

"Pffft, duh. My people are in sense keepers of Time itself, granted that the beings who actually control time are called the Zoni, who are pure electromagnetic matter."

Wile scratched his chin, then asked, "That IS interesting! Tell me more!"

"No!" she spat back before continuing to leave. Wile's mind workd in the opposite direction, and he whispered harshly back, "_I can manipulate time too!_" he was out of breath.

Mori's head popped back in. "huh?"

Wile's tongue sagged before weakly attempting to reach out beyond the cage. "Just hold on a minute! _I-I _can manipulate time as well."

Mori raised an eyebrow, stepped back in, and hoped she wasn't sharing the same segregated space with a madman. "What are you talking about?"

"It's something I've barely had any practice with, but I can manipulate time."

"You are making no sense to me. How can an outlander like you manipulate time? Only the Zoni can manipulate time!"

A long silence passed. Mori's disbelief was evident. Wile didn't know where he would take this next, so he made a tried leap. "I can. I know it sounds stupid, but... I have this ability that I found all on my own that lets me manipulate the time flux around me in a limited radius. It's... It's my ability."

Zori reached out impulsively and grabbed Wile by his chest fur (Remember two chapters back when he got all "Excited"?).

Caught heavily by surprise, Wile's tongue went all slapstick hiting him in his left eye. Mori snarled, "What sort of game are you playing with me?"

"It's... _not a... _GAME... I _really_... c-can!" Wile coughed. Mori released him. She sat down like a puppy waiting for the next trick before it could've won the treat. "Show me."

"I'd do it a lot better if you'd release me from this cage," he said. "I couldn't do it under these conditions!"

Mori shook her head (Insert goofy cow bell sound effect).

"But I can't take you with me!"

Mori shrugged her pudgy shoulders and got up and walked off. But Wile suddenly screamed (not so loudly to alert the guards outside the door), "W-WAIT!"

Mori stopped again. Keeping her attention really was becoming a chore. Wile was running out of options, and sweating bullets. He couldn't just take a little girl of an advanced alien race _with _him, because for all he knew, she might have had loved ones. That and her race was the freaking Keepers of Time, an utterly fascinating piece of information. And he had NO idea what he'd do with her if he brought her back to Earth with him... it'd not be like he could just convince her to stay; she was pretty stubborn...

He quit racing for answers, sighed, and gave up, because there were no options than...

"I'll take you with me."

Mori's grin widened, and she almost burst with, "You WILL!" and would've hollered, but Wile desperately got her to quiet down. He asked, "So now what? Don't you need keys to get me out of this cell?"

Mori was still beaming, but she motioned for Wile to wait patiently while she slipped out the cell. In seconds she came back with a ring of etched gold keys. "The guards, they were sleeping," she said, but she didn't really sound interested. "Be lucky that our society's so off guard, they didn't bother keeping your hands tied." She proceeded to unlock the cell door.

Wile's freedom was guaranteed.

"But show me now! You can manipulate time? Show me!"

Easier said then done. But Wile, now with an unfortunate tagalong, would have to prove he could do something before asking anything further regarding this "Zoni" Mori kept going on about.

He breathed in and out, then puffed out his chest. Next, he concentrated. Mori hadn't budged an inch, trying to figure out the bizarre otherworlder's technique.

Without warning, everything in Wile's range of vision flashed "Green". He succeeded for sure. He'd stopped time in his range, but already he was feeling tired from the exhausting effort. What would he do next?

It was simple; he'd walk right behind Mori. He did so. Once he finished, he briefly considered just walking away and getting back to the ship without Mori even noticing. But there were too many problems with that course of action: He didn't know how many of those Fongoids would be waiting outside. He didn't know the layout of the village, and plus, he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to leave and break a promise he made to an 7-year-old girl.

Now he released the hold. It was much easier because he wasn't dealing with an inorganic being like the Agicalc.

Didn't take a whole lot to excite Mori. Once the Hold lifted, Mori stood there and stared blankly at a befuddled Wile E. Coyote like a patron saint.

**Cutting this off For the Moment! **


	17. Insane Troll Logic

I've confided a secret to myself that myself wants to keep secret from me but I choose to expose it to all the world of mes running around secretly unsecreting secrets I've secreted: I'm a lazy idiot.

Well, enough 0f that. Enjoy.

* * *

**Hours On In, Evening, Rapidly approaching late midnight then morning hours**

Quantos was a planet teeming with jungle life, jungle things, basically anything that would cause a kind of havoc that prompted the phrase "Bungle in the Jungle." Out of all the planets in the neighbouring, million yard gap spanning universal sector Mori kept referring to as the "Phylax Sector" within the Polaris Galaxy, Quantos would be, theatrically speaking, the prettiest setting for Fongoids.

Wile thought he was a risk-taker. Wile E. Coyote thought _he _was a risk-taker. This little girl stared death in the eye, more than occasionally, and smirked. He _could _top that. Even in the face of a technical minor miscaculation, the kind that literally _blew _up in Wile's face or crashed him into a wall or had him falling over a clifface and hitting it flat like a pancake. Just all those times, it always had something to do with petty, and dare he think it, _faulty_ Earth equipment. Never time anomalies. Not falling on a cliff on the, according to Mori, rare whim he could just use the power of his _mind _and reverse it completely. He could grow to _love _it here; he seemed to forget how insistent a troublemaker like Mori was at getting off the planet.

The Fongoids, a weirdly colored cross between what Wile remembered humans looked like, and _snails_. _Gastropods_. In a weird, obscure-referrence kind of way, it made _perfect_ sense to Wile. A race that had virtually _nothing _to fear, could freely alter time paths and at the slightest hint of danger, even something mildly and utterly non-threatening, like himself, would retreat into itself like a snail or a turtle retreats into its shell for protection.

_I guess I sympathize with them a little_.

(But wouldn't _that _open up the liklihood of temporal paradoxes? He couldn't help but touch it. Just a little. His mind worked in so many directions. This was so much information to take. Somewhere in all the half-truths of Mori's summarizations of her "Boring, Wussie Clansman of a Gaurdian Tribe", was the all the astonishing bits only _he _could relate, considering that _he _had the power to make time bend to his _will_. Very limitedly.)

The Fongoids felt too much like a very shoddy _front _for a much greater _darkness _where the truth lay. A race as easygoing and a little careless like the Fongoids - how could they _not _have a true understanding of the potential, the _applications_ their Time-travelling abilities had? Being able to _slow time _down was one thing; if there was power that Wile could apply and _learn _to use himself to go _back _in time, through seconds, _days_, _years_, _histories, _maybe even _CENTURIES_, then his main concern, his real target for investigation wasn't the fongoids... it was the **Zoni**.

Mori was... vague. Even though she could whip Time on a table to a small degree and prevent falling, she knew very little about the Zoni. Not even enough to come immediately to a conclusion about their mysterious godly influence on the cosmos when she happened to see one herself for the very first time.

She told Wile they were tiny bug-headed creatures with purple skin, with twitchy attenae that would buzz to life with electrical static. She tried touching the one she saw. She said she came close to it, but upon seeing her, it popped out of reach like a deer in headlights, and vanished.

Now, Wile E. Coyote in comparison to someone like Mori, a fongoid, was a heck of a lot smarter than anything in this particular galaxy. No sooner did she get into the slightly less vague details than the practical gears start to turn, picking up speed and whirring with the speed of a winter in Wile's skull.

Judging from Mori's account of her encounter, that the Zoni were akin to literal _floating _electrical membrane. In this case, Zoni had the biophysical mass of a feather almost making it non-existent, but their conductive body chemicals and cellular structure flowing freely in and out of time stream. In short, they could _barely _hold any stability in their bodies to exist in any one place at any one time. Give or take _less _than 100 milliseconds or longer.

Zoni were disjointed, ghostly beings that were easily excited into an impulsive action. Like mosquitos, or bee myriads, or colonies of fish. Dispersed and then recreated into a solid form- rearranging _energy_.

There had to be _more _of them, meaning that they didn't act individually for very long, and they were a hive mind, meaning they were _a million _times more powerful when brought together in groups. And the amount of energy that could be generated in stronger groups... it was a staggering number. _Power _like that could and _would _rip through the universe as easily as a piece of paper. In his head Wile tried putting a number to it, and he came to literally a decimal point in the uncapped billions... possibly even _greater than that._ With the behavior patterns of a hyperactive child.

Everything in Wile's natural impulses would have told him to just abandon this fruitless pursuit- As an _animal _himself, a _basic _one, his keen instinct told him, not very clearly, to steer _clear _of an impending danger. but _he _was a genius and would not easily be misled.

But, and as luck would have it, en route to his ship, he and Mori would be taking a side trip to the forbidden temple where Mori claimed she had _seen _the fabled zoni. She never did think of them as cute. But when her hairy new coyote friend professed a sincere interest in getting a peek at one himself, it was like Mori was reading into his mind. She already knew, even though she knew little, that the odd coyote wanted get his funny wiry paws onto a Zoni and learn its' wondrous time-altering secrets. Anything for her new friend, especially if it meant she'd get to see worlds beyond her imagination, experience NEW dangers, possibly life-threatening exciting new challenges; besides, she'd never liked the look of the zoni anyway. Wile could happily help himself.

And they would, since there wouldn't be anybody around to obstruct them anyway. Best of all, there was a particular tool of the Trade enshrined within the unsealed temple sitting at the top of a tiring climb, beyond a ton of pillars, concealed by the elaborate entanglement of jungle greenery; something Wile heard her refer to as a "Vessel".

"Vessel...?" Mori heard him whispering in his ear. His funny breath when he talked made her ears all tingly.

"It is," she explained. "I learned it from peeking at the tomes the Eldest of our Tribe carries with him to all his speaking seminars and also to our Tribe's stupid Congratulatory Mini-Golf Coronation Ceremony."

He thought he misheard her and asked, "Are you absolutely certain about that?"

"Well, _they _call it _Min-nyah-chur Golf_, but I think that's kinda dumb."

"_No_," Wile harshly interjected, "I mean that the Eldest of your Tribe was the only source of information?"

"Yes."

"So there is no other person you can trust within your tribe if you wanted to... I don't know, exchange small fragments of information?"

Mori and Wile were turning corners up the winding staircase to the temple sitting only inches within their grasp. It was minutes of noisy, angry silence before Mori could form a reply.

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean, but..." she whispered. "But we Fongoids at childhood are sent to take classes, be given knowledge about the History of our species... and then we are then sent to our Eldest of the Tribe for more additional knowledge. And on the days we aren't, we play along the planet. There are very few places we can play. But no one's ever talked about anything we do in classes." She stopped, her face froze. "Crackers, _thomeone's here._" She hissed.

Amazing; Wile caught on to Mori's cunning frighteningly quick. As if on the mark, some hyper-senitive instinct had allowed Mori to detect something from far away, and in response, she changed just one part of the word "Someone" by replacing the latter of the "S" sound with the "Th-" prefix. She was quick to see that the "S" would emit a sound _more _than likely to be heard within the vicinity of people she didn't want to encounter.

Wile and Mori were hiding and now they had to wait. There was _somebody _near by. Appearing right into sight were a pair of fongoid Guardsmen brandishing spears- close to the same kind Wile was "greeted" with after his crash landing on Quantos -except these were an angry obsidian color.

"So yeah, I heard this guy was an interesting species unlike anything else on Quantos?"

"Is it editable...?"

"Why do always ask me that? No, and quit _thinking about your Stomach_. But he crashed onto the _Raptive's Peak_, so I heard. The ship that the thing came in on was thoroughly examined, but the only thing weird was the number of dead bug carcasses!"

"What? Eww... ! What would something like _that _being doing on the ship... ? Maybe he was eating them?"

"From what the Huntsmen could tell."

Wile and Mori were hidden well behind the pillars and didn't move. Wile halted breathing entirely, except only through his nose. The fongoid guardsmen continued.

"That thing looked so bony and _starving._ I'm surprised that it lasted as long," said the first fongoid. He had the most weedily sounding voice Wile heard from _anybody_. It instantly made him forget being frightened about what they could do with those spears. "I'm wondering if it was a good idea from the Elder to keep him in prison."

THWACK! "Do not speak ill of the Eldest of our Tribe! You never know if he _could _be watching!" the second one nervously and irritatingly warned his partner. "He had to have good reason!"

"Oh really? Then what do you assume of a creature that had two tons of a strange self-improving advanced piece of technological equipment sitting in his van? In addition to that, the crew sent out to investigate the ship came back with a very advanced looking staff containing electromagnetic nanites swarming constantly within the tip, creating a glow! That creature is clearly _dangerous_. Harbouring technology like that, yet looking so famished you'd think he'd have collapsed over long before coming here. Finally, one of our top scientists performed a very quick brain scan on him- it was topping in the 900s!"

"... So then, it's _not _editable?"

92464-496-0000007-12002

The first guard shot a dirty look. The second one looked so hurt about being reproached that he stared back wide-eyed. "I can't help it! I'm hungry!"

So then the two of them continued down the steps and into the blanketed night. Mori and Wile stepped out from the shadows and didnt waste time staring after them. Instead, the continued onward toward the ruins. They were now only seconds away from the gate.

"We've arrived. This is the gate into the Temple of Zahn." Mori batted angry eye lids at their only opposition in front of them which was a double door with imprints of ancient fongoidian language, many of which had a running characteristic of the repeating character. "Z". clustered into a spiralling circle with a faint glow emanating from them. Overhead, The Zolar Forest remained a silent witness.

Mori was going to open the door but then Wile jumped up to the front and said, "Stay back. I think there's something _elaborate _and dangerous here." He started sniffing the air and then closely examined the door. Careful inspection showed that to the right was a very primitive-looking "doorbell". He started sweatin' _beads_...

"Maybe you should probably let me open it...?" Mori suggested helpfully.

"I know _exactly _what I'm doing!" he hissed back. Mori confusedly watched as Wile pressed the doorbell...

_BZZZZT!_

...only to get a nasty shock, literally from pressing the doorbell. The wily coyote lit up like a christmas tree with the painful shock, then after pulling back his finger from the doorbell, fell with a comic _THUD!_, smoking. He jerked once or twice while Mori dully walked up to the door. Wile stared up, a little lopsided in the eyes, wondering what just happened. "The doorbell thing is... really a trick the Fongoid Eldest built into place in case anybody was stupid enough to think that anybody lived here. This _is _a sacred place. It doesn't get that many, um... visitors."

Wile jumped back on his feet and grinned sheepishly in embarrassment. Then he dusted himself off, first the arms and then the legs, and even his undergarments, like they were an expensive dress-suit, as if the electrical shock didn't just happen. He also licked the tip of his finger and pinched out the small enflamed tip of his right ear. "Ahem... Yes, of course. I, uh, knew that. Now then, Miss Mori, go ahead and lead the way."

Mori shot a confused eyelid at her strange new friend and then nodded. She approached the door. Sure enough, the door swung open quite easily. No traps. Wile followed in behind her. She turned to look at her friend and then turned around to giggle. _He's weird, but he's funny!_

In that moment of silent treking through the narrow ancient corridor came an unwarranted and completely unexpected thought, as small and insignificant as a fly, at the back of Wile's mind.

"The director told me to run through a cave as I chased... I didn't catch him, but I kept getting struck with lightning or boulders or dynamite or I'd fall off the road and smack the stupid pavement," he grumbled incoherently.

Mori was barely listening in, but now her backwards antennae bucked and attenuated in high confusion. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

Wile's ears perked up. "I apologize. I was talking to myself," he explained, but even as he was it just sounded as bad as he already guessed it was, and added with a disgrunted tic of "Out loud. Embarassing."

Mori shook her head. "My step mom says you shouldn't do that. Cause people then think you're crazy."

Wile hunched his shoulders and grinned sheepishly, a twisty-turny angry kind of grin. "Maybe I AM a little crazy."

Mori's eyes widened. "Adults are just _weird_."

Wile grunted but didn't object; actually he was laughing a little. "But I am the first adult of my kind you ever seen."

"But you're an adult. Adults are always talking to themselves and acting like they know everything, but are just mentally pushing through every concievable plan, and they get so wound up they start having those little quirks!"

"Specifically the ones you know, little Mori?"

"None other than the Chief Elders of our tribe or the ageing 389-year-old relics sitting in the observatory," she said, with a little pride to boot. But her face faltered as she suddenly snapped, "Hey! DON'T call me "little Mori"! That's stupid!" doing this as she turned around, jumped up and viciously _poked_ the nose of the silly Jackal in underwear as if to drive the point home. As Wile could do was helplessly suffer the onslaught of Mori's ineffective rage. After which Wile suppressed a chuckle as they went onward.

They entered an antechamber the size of a school cafeteria, save for all the turned-over, loose stones.

"I know what you're thinking. This is one of those rooms where saying it's "Too quiet" is tantamount to tempting fate."

Wile balked and stared at her confusedly, because incredulously asking, "What? Tempting fate? Is that what you said, "Tempting Fate"?"

Mori cheerfully replied, "Mmm-hmm. Cause in my storybook i read that when people say stuff like that, bad stuff happens." But Wile didn't know what to make of such a ridiculous, and maybe groundless revelation. For all he knew, Mori was simply saying things she heard offhandedly, as all children are wont to do. And like a child, she didn't fully understand the context of such a sentence.

His ears dropped. Memories like a black fog suddenly made themselves felt, most recently those of his time on the planet he spent the last 28 years doing nothing but learning from the Agicalc device. All the unpleasant ones.

All his free time had been dedicated to "experimentations". Self-made bombs, dynamite, pulley systems, assembled electrical conductors, and dangerous malleable elements (Turns out, close to 30 more elements had been discovered in the new century) being used by the machine. All which exploded and left him in a crumpled state.

And even further than that was that red herring that reared its' ugly head too recently. Where DID that come from? "Directors"? "Lightning"? "boulders"? "Caves"? None of those terms made any sense to him; but he _guessed _that all of it had something to do with another black hole in his head. And it _was _too much for him to handle; just thinking about made him _falter _in his step. All there was was the School, his life-threatening machinery, his solitary lifestyle, Dodgers and Soleil.

But he was getting off track. His personal standpoint was that fate could not exist, because free will can't exist where pre-determined destiny stood. If anything, he was a man- er, coyote of _Science_, and tended to consider fate where scientific advancement stood to progress, and _all _the cards were firmly in his grip.

But that opened up another question then, fleeting as it was, unpredicted it became: if Zoni could manipulate time, then, and unless it created a paradox, Wile could go BACK to his original time. He could go back... and everything would be normal again.

_Normal. NORMAL? _

Both ears shot up as if stimulated by a nasty shock: Wile E. Coyote HADN'T thought that through before! A wild hope, of a spectacularly disastrous kind revealed itself, but he had to put it on hold because they passed through the next corridor and Mori suddenly stopped.

"It's right there!"

And she wasn't kidding. This was the last room. Sitting at the other end on top of an elegant, Doric pedestal was a small blue cylindrical object with a glass container in the middle. They walked toward it. Mori ran up to it and started to jump up and down excitedly, proclaiming, "The _Zoni Vessel_. With this, Mr. Coyote, we can snatch one of the Zoni! The Zoni, like I explained, can manipulate time. Maybe if we catch one, we can closely look at how its' done and stuff! Better yet, these babies can also improve the mechanical schematics of any man-made machine!"

Wile was having trouble keeping up with her, because of all the wild, unordered thinking he'd been doing. His ears relaxed. "Improve mechanical schematics?"

"That's right! Well... my Elders have said this was so. Zoni aren't just good with messin' with time, they can "thinly alter the metallic composition" of any large machine, kinds with wires, or operating systems, but... it all just sounds pretty complicated. But I bet this'll aid in our escape!"

Wile's ears didn't lower, but simply stood erect in a period of placid doubt. "That's all well and good, but we need to actually capture a Zoni, don't we?"

Mori, still smiled, nodded. "Way ahead of you!" She snatched the Zoni Vessel and tossed it to Wile, who clumsily caught it. He examined it. Then his ears shot up. "How many can be carried _within _this thing?"

Mori hunched her shoulders and waned "I don't know. I've never seen it used."

Wile sniffed it; then pressed his nose against it while he literally, but not to harshly, _squished _his face against it while still sniffing it, tracing all the intricate details of the complicated machine that, bearing in mind of the designer, was built with _simplicity_. The ceiling lid was a turn-compact. An airtight electrical douser was built into the side, for the intent of suppressing and evenly distributing the excess energy the Zoni would give off. Whoever originally made the machine knew _exactly _what they were doing. With this much effort put into it, it was a clean indication that the Zoni were _more _dangerous than either of them could comprehend.

Mori gave Wile a strange eye and asked, "Uh... You okay?"

Wile confidently said, "I'm perfectly sane."

"But you were sniffin' it seconds ago," she said, pecking at the air imitating what Wile did, though that was hard to accomplish considering that the odd anatomy of the Fongoids did not yield a terribly visible nose. "Like this!" she laughed.

Wile chuckled too, despite Mori's half-hearted attempt. "Well, my dear I _am _what my species does. And is it not true that you are what you eat?"

Mori went wide-eyed when she heard this and gasped, "You can _eat metal_...? Cooool...!"

Wile shook his head a little taken aback. "Well actually that not what I meant, I-"

"HEY!"

The startling proclamation snatched both of their attentions away from the device and they turned to see one of the Fongoid guards from earlier standing there, with brandished spear in arm. Both Mori and Wile looked like mice trapped by a large cat.

The Fongoidian guard exclaimed, "Is that...?" He was staring at both Wile E. Coyote and the Zoni Vessel. "Hey, you! Put that down and surrender at ONCE!"

That happened to some degree. Mori, now almost certain they were done for, was cringing with panic, even though it was just one guard. Wile, who just had a taste of sweet, sweet freedom was of a second opinion. He casually put down the Vessel.

"Hey you, the hound! DoN'T move!" He didn't know what was wrong, but it _sounded _like the guard's voice was trembling. Now even he was beginning to share some of Mori's doubts. "Don't MOVE!"

Wile raised both hands up obediently and his mouth curled slightly into a slick smile that slightly bared his more sharper teeth. "Make up your mind," said Wile. He saw the guard bulk and stagger back, slouch and mishandle the spear. He daunted his confidence, which was just _gravy_. He relished that thought... _mmm_, _relish_... "You waste precious _time _that way."

The guard asked, "What is that supposed t-?"

_**FZOOOOOM**_

**The field of green, blazing in Wile's eyes, rippled, shuddered, and then came to life. Time froze barring himself. It was easy how, given the number of tries, the Hold wouldn't manifest immediately. The shocked expression on the guard's face was frozen into place, and Wile picked the first opportunity to grab the vessel and Mori, each buncled in his muscular skinny arms, then **_**run**_**. **

It was 4 minutes after they had gone with the Hold released. And guard stood in the empty room, unable to stop his last remark. "-o MEAN? They're GONE... He know how to manipulate TIME! An outsider has the _Powah OF THE ZONI! HE ALSO HAS a KID with him! And I'm TALKING TO myself... _which is kind of a bad habit, methinks... really need to stop talking to myself or people'll think I'm crazy or somethin'..."

* * *

(_Elsewhere_)

Mori's excitement threatened to burst like a dam and fall like a cataract of water, but there was NO time to act that way now. Actually, her mind quickly got back on track.

"Turn this way...!"

Wile turned "this way".

"Now keep going forward! Then, dive down the corridor quickly!"

Wile did as she instructed, his bare paws pounding on the wet stone path barely lit by the broken patches of ceiling exposed by stars and night sky.

Their path was another set of beleaguered stairs. Barely kept in patchwork condition, but with spots or broken holes that suggested vandalism to be a prime factor. The hallway kept getting narrower and sometimes the ceiling dropped, or there were spots where large stone protrusions were giving jetties to a bony jackal. He climbed past them, over them, ducked, then scrambled like a Sitzler Crab. Mori giggled her little heart away throughout the entire thing. Wile had enough trouble juggling her pudgy, albeit adorable weight, with that of the Zoni Vessel. Sometimes he had to put it into his mouth. the corway kept getting dark, but sometimes his head would lightly brush against the ceiling, like a loud thump, and his one good eye would create... illusions, like he could see a light brimming something that lay ahead.

He discovered he wasn't being decieved, for at that moment, Mori suddenly yelled, to her own surprise, "I can see it! We have to go after it!"

_Zoni_, he thought. He could finally straight out his back, the twisted hallway ceased straining his back to a breaking point. Like a homing beacon, Wile followed the direction of the unearthly presence while Mori squealed with enjoyment; Wile kept wondering in the back of his mind if the young girl wasn't just a _tad _bit insane.

Mori yelled, forgetting that they were more than likely under pursuit by the guards, "It's the Zoni! We're _finally _close! We'll _get _one for ourselves!"

Now Wile was giving the girl props because in some way, she _was _reminding him of himself when _she _was his age. He grinned, despite all the due frustration of carrying two things at once. They weren't going to quit until they _got their Zoni. _That stubborn alibi made the chase a little more crazier, or fun, Wile couldn't really tell. Whatever the case, the unearthly presence was getting further or _closer _to them, such that they were practically on top of _it_, and they dived into a right hallway or a left hallway just to keep up with it, like it was only seconds ahead of their _grasp_ and taunting them. God, it was as if _they _were being led through a maze!

"M-Mori!" Wile stammered, "Dear, would using the Time Hold maybe cater to our efforts!"

Mori was too busy squealing, but Wile asked her again and she was starting to appreciate it more and more. And her face lit up like a christmas tree to boot when he suggested his "Hold". But the answer she gave was, "From what I've seen, your "Hold" within the range of a Zoni would cause like a, a small-scale particle distortion, like a big "Null" that would be similar to a forced influx of quantum dissolution... well, it's like, if you cause a "Hold", then the linear function of this universe from your own space would inevitably shatter a fragmentary track of time that exist around a confined predominated space. A distorted wave of missing energy will create a paradox of "replaced" energy in a degree of time that exists within an isolated segment of the future! So it's kind of like watching a piece of a patchwork quit that you made become suddenly removed in an moving unmoved segment of the universe moved the next moved patch of the universe where it wouldn't normally exist, creating mandatory havoc."

Wile could hardly follow what she said, as if half of what she was saying came straight out of a fictional story a nut-job cobbled together. "My Hold would likely kill the... gaaah!"

The first of the quakes finally came. Some of the already loose ceiling came crashing down behind them. Mori ducked her head, for fear of getting hit, but so far they were relatively safe and all the crashes were like million miles away. Mori continued what he was going to say, "Exactly! Exactly! Yes! Since the Zoni are pure electricity and can freely move in the time stream, the Hold would, put simply... uh, "halt" their continuous motion, and since their prolonged existence depends entirely on them being a united but individual hive mind that can touch the invisible electrical stream of time thanks to their continuous kinetic energy, the strain your Hold would create on that continuous energy would slow it down, then halt it entirely and they would cease existing entirely."

Grim, and or not-so-simple as that explanation was, the sheer intellectual nature of their exchange brought some kind of weird moment of "Genius Pride", as they were _running_, and the two exclaimed simultaneously, "_Glad I thought of it_." So despite still chasing after the Zoni the two of them exchanged a confused glance at each other, with Wile saying offhandedly, "What do they _teach _you in your educational facilities anyway?"

A red herring, but it was a question nonetheless, to which Mori delightfully answered, "Oh, the basic dull stuff. Quantum Time Theory. Cause my step-mom tells me that if I don't, I get so stupid I warps the fabric of the universe."

Wile stared dumbfounded at the audience and shook his head.

Something bugged Mori before. "But are you saying that you thought of all that before me? Get real! I'm smarter than you! I spent most of my young life studying physics!"

Wile grinned a little arrogantly when he said, "Do you really believe that? It sounds like an amateur's work. I'M the real genius here. I _beat a sentient machine to the punch and outwitted his initial percentage of victory. _With barely _NOTHING but my _own two claws and _raw intellect_." she scoffed. "Oh whatever! Physics is the study of universe! Cause and effect! I know my quantum time space theory!" Wile rolled his eyes, and still in pursuit of the unearthly presence down the next hallway exclaimed, "You _doubt me! _Bah! You're a child! You could have hardly passed the entry exams into kindergarten!"

Mori screamed, "OH!" "_Yes! _You see my dear, I know _college-grade _Qauntum Physics. What goes up and down, left and right, black and white, 2 and 4s, carrying over the _black_."

"I do not know what this "College" is," Mori said with a sour tongue, "But it sounds disappointing."

Wile's ears perked up, Mori was sitting up on Wile's back because he had bent out forward so eagerly twisting at every corner. "It means that you have yet to savor adult Physics. Adult theories. You need to learn to grow up and apply this knowledge so that nothing is outside the realm of possibility!" Another argument cut short because the two of them now dodged a giant boulder that nearly blocked that entire passage in front of them. Wile continued running. They were close to the Zoni. They were starting to become a hive mind themselves, what with their similar thought, only seconds branching down to milliseconds to inches.

"You need to also," he added, "Be willing to accept the possibility of uncertain factors, that's the very thing that can unseat a scientific position you build your base on. For example!" He yelled, jumping over a large gap of missing floor in a room untouched by the light barely lit by the fleeting presence up ahead. "Say the whole idea of "If a Tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, and whether or not you can hear it the sound it makes as it falls". That's a proposal based on nothing but what can be observed. Bah! nonsense to that! It's a mockery of all your senses! You must aim higher if you want to rise in the field of Metaphysical Science. My **dear** Mori, instead," he paused again, to get back his footing on more unhinged stone and continued his pursuit of the Zoni. "Instead of an proposal like that, you should be telling yourself, "If a tree falls in a forest, think about whether that tree even exists at all". It may be _real_, but it is an uncertain factor, an unobserved idea that you cannot physically act upon unless you can change the entire outcome of that by becoming the outside force that acts! Still the likelihood that something as significant as the something like the Zoni can exist outside the current activity of events parallel to it is greater than the chance that right now, outside _these _events, the unobserved world at large isn't functioning in the same way! That's why I actively pursue the relativity between two events. To make them happen, _I _must become the acting force to grasp a second event and not let it happen outside MY realm of **perception**. I want to catch the event of the **Zoni**. I'm an acting second event that must not run simply parrallel to the first event! A cause and effect, my dear, a CAUSE and EFFECT! What is being chased should NOT remain outside the field of that which determines it should CHASE it! _Now _it gets tricky because should I chase something, then catching it is a second phenomenon outside THAT of the first event wherein lies the **CHASE**. And if the event, the possibility, that I can catch what I chase can exist on the same linear plane as **ME.**"

Mori was struck speechless. Wile, turned a final corridor. The fruits of their insane banter/wild goose chase for a dangerously fragile entity showed itself, because like a small floating target, the Zoni was certainly visible creating an electrical field around it and it _saw _them.

"I'm not stupid you know. I consider all the variables when I chase something I'm after. Like the distance between us, the Two Events. Or the distance between myself and the unobserved events. Am I fast enough to catch the Zoni!"

They ducked behind the next corner.

"Does my observation of something that doesn't exist normally in contrast to me affect my chance getting what I want, which _is it_?"

Mori was so engrossed in the insane build up of logic, be it trolled or soaked to the brim with piercing insight, that for once she was compelled to do what all little girls did when in the presence of an adult they held great respect for, and listen. But just _hearing _the way he talked, his _dripping ego_, his ridiculous sense of controlled insanity in the face of overwhelming failure, made her think of him even _greater _than any of the Fongoid Elders.

Wile's extra boost of speed; then once they rounded the next corner and ducked into a north hallway, they were now within reach of the Zoni.

"Does its' existence mean that I am to chase it until I'm sastified, or does that event exist in reality unless I can make a reality for myself? But as I have an infallible ego and mind to boot, doesn't that also mean I have no room for the possibility of a different outcome? Perhaps _that _would make more sense than my _first _theory, right?"

The world slowed to an eery silence. Wile, reflexes on fire, opened up the Vessel. Mori's mouth fell open in astonishment. And that's all there was; it was that hungry, eager, and predatory look in Wile's eyes that had her spellbound. In only a few seconds, the beatbox-head floating freely out of reach, but _not _anymore- Wile was already on top of it with magnificent leap. The two simple blank eyes of the electrical singularity widened. Wile wasted no time undoing the lid, and the confused moment turned into that of glory when the very Zoni became obscured by container, and Wile's split-second reflex closed the lid on top of the rim.

"_Wrong!_"

That split second was now a moment to be revered in history itself when the quakes hit, and Mori and Wile, still tumbling in mid-air, crashed right into the _next _room which was all but obscured by dark.

Until an electrical spark, spurred to life by the radiant power source inside the dangerous package, changed all of that, and filled the unseen cave-work they were trapped into by pure coincidence with a thick veil of astounding light. Whether it was blinding confidence or sheer pride in his own _skill_, the crazy jackal's ego towered for a split second. He stood so boldly, so gravely, he had the cunning to get anything he wanted. Wile's smile, wide and almost omnious at glance, was highlighted by the unflickering glow the Zoni trapped in the Vessel. Mori could only gape in sheer awe and silence, and that frown on her face turned into a quivering smile. _Wile E. Coyote _was going places; she _WOULD be going with him to SEE _those places.

As if hadn't ceased talking even once, the brooding, squish-faced, domimant "Super-Genius" held himself in high regard as he finished his entire base argument with the words, "BECAUSE I'm Wile E. Coyote. I have a I.Q. of 5.8. I'm _faster, stronger, more cunning, and larger than you, ANNNNND, I'm a genius_." Except he wasn't saying that to anybody. And Mori found it funny how Wile's ridiculous posture and arrogant tone exaggerated the sentiment. But it was still pretty cool though! (Eh, actually it wasn't, I mean, he _really _needed some **pants**.) He continued to hold onto the Zoni.

Wile's tone took a turn down for ominous value. "And I _always catch what I chase_." Wile E. Coyote on the other hand, felt delighted when he said it; it just _felt _good.

Finally he turned towards Mori and finished with, "While, _you _my dear, could hardly pass the entrance exams to _kindergarten._"

Yes, Mori was decidedly blinded herself by the cool of this strange Alien from another world... but then again his condescending remark was a warrant for:

*PUNCH* _PLOP!_

"OOOF!" Both Wile's eyes popped out wide _painfully _after a recoil from a _hit _in the _shin_. So his head met the dirt face-first.

Mori cracked her knuckles and said, dully, "I do not know what this Kindergarten is, but you _really _need to work on not making me _angry_."

Wile coughed up saliva and the chuckled out of embarrassment. "Heh. Sorry..."

Whatever the case, they NOW had their Zoni, and all the Time-Travelling properties and Technology-advancing secrets it carried.

* * *

**A/N: ... Uh, Whatever. I am in the process of going to Crowdspring.**

**Random notes of the day~**

**- Obama's not doing such a good job. I took political science for a class, I should know what I'm talking about!**

**- I want to start a Web Comic. Statistically speaking, many web comic artists start so crappily, but over time, their art form becomes so practised and awesome, you'd think they were experts. Don't believe me? **

**Go to Google, then type in (You don't actually HAVE to, but I'm SERIOUS, you need to see and compare for yourselves): **

**"Umlaut House - Umlaut House 2" **

**"S.S.D.D."**

**"Gene Catlow"**

**"Exterminatus Now"**


	18. Sweet Irony Part 1

Let me explain my Dog, Deuce Syndicus Mitchell (The naming of whom was left to my surviving Grandmother). He's grown up decently. We go through the motions of letting him out, he pees, sometimes poops, and even licks at odd substances he should have no business licking.

He demands attention a lot. Then again, we keep him inside the house, what's he going to do? Plus, he's only a dog. When I'm not doing anything important or it requires the use of reading, he's docile, he's active when I'm doing homework. Kind of inconvenient.

Studying now! Chapter updated periodically in the Developmental Stages!

* * *

Wile's pride swelled as he held the Zoni like a prize trophy. Or a lantern, since he was studying the small cave in which they were trapped. He said nothing for a long time. Mori was standing right next to him, her bubbly yellow eyes also surveying the closed off opening to the cave. The stone framework of the entrance was decimated thanks to dirt, rocks, dirt-rocks, and broken piles of _Wall_, cracked, cinders and blackened rift arches.

Only seconds ago did they narrowly avoid what apparently had been the ENTIRE Temple crashing down on top of them, as they reached the end of a labyrinth.

Which only added to the confusion. Right after Wile used the Hold, they ran from the room; instead going straight to the exit like they originally planned, they managed to suddenly get themselves lost inside an unusually complicated AND large gradually descending, underground Labyrinth, chasing after the Zoni they managed to catch sight of. Mori had no idea where they were at, or how near or far they had gone from Wile's only ticket off the planet, or how long it would take them to get _back_. But there was no going back.

"Oh man," said Mori unworried. "We're stuck. But that was pretty fun!"

Wile's ears dropped and he shot daggers at the careless child for that statement. "Anyway, maybe there is a way out of here."

" 'Maybe' is an unknown factor, my dear," Wile explained, scratching his rump with agitation. "We're between a rock and a high place."

"The Labyrinth runs _low_-" she corrected him, but then Wile hissed, "I _know _what I said!" Mori rolled her eyes at him, and Wile continued, "Speaking of which, You never said a blasted thing about the Temple of the Zoni being this HUGE! It's simply... I'M simply... SPEECHLESS!"

Mori didn't look worried in the slightest. "It is a part of the Temple. It's an unused part, A series of mazes. I don't know what they originally used them for, because I all I knew about was the pathway leading the Zoni Vessel."

"Which," Wile finished for her, with a scathing tone of anger in his voice, "Will be of no use to me if I can't even get back to my ship!"

"I'm sure we'll get there! We just have to find a way out!"

Wile wasn't sure if Mori had all her eggs in the basket. They were trapped and there was a ceiling right on top of them, and the damp dank darkness sitting outside the shore of the Zoni's glow. He made up his mind quickly; they'd look for another exit.

"Ooh! We're going somewhere!" she cried excitedly. "Then let's jump into our next journey!" With that she started pounding her feet against rough wet floor into darkness, but she kept stopping several seconds along the way to look back. She obviously expected the Coyote to tag along. "Come on! You don't want to stay here, do you?"

Speechless, as Wile convinced himself, he was. Now Mori's attitude was slightly annoying. He followed. But it was done in complete silence.

The cave was even wider than he expected; the further they went from sealed door, the darker it became. Only thing to be seen was the pure light of the sentient lifeform housed very neatly in the silver-blue container. the ceiling hung close, but not that close to Wile's head; on each side, the walls were thinly outlined. they weren't in a cave with no set boundaries. Mori bobbled alongside the starving yote, blissfully invigorated and carefree.

There was nothing to do but walk, walk, and walk. The path started to curve and stretch interminably. Mori almost slipped, and Mori let out a wail. He could tell she didn't mean to because she grit her teeth. And he knew why. When he cradled her in his arms, Wile's keen vision and the light of the Vessel illuminated the almost bottomless pit of black water. But in his arms, Mori's whole personality took so many directions; she was giggling to herself, because she was enjoying her near accident.

Wile didn't know _what _her problem was, but hoped she was really taking everything he told her seriously. He didn't want to be responsible for the death of a child, certainly not a hyperactive, reckless one.

But that brought about another running thought, one about how many times before in a past he barely remembered, how he Fell off a high cliff MANY times. But why? How could he be THAT crazy to risk suicide that many times over and over? How did he even survive?

Again, it was coming back to him that for better or worse, he didn't die, and he was, to some extent, unable to be "killed" in the normal sense by the regular laws of physics. He felt silly for getting worried.

But now the path had ended and there was nowhere to go from here. Until he saw a thin, curving line of rock sticking out from a jetty in the wall. Wide enough constitute as a path. The light of the Vessel extended as far until it disappeared around the side. His mouth curled with a desperate edge, and Mori raised her head in the same direction he was facing. They would sneak across with that path.

They started out. Mori wanted to be first. But Wile insisted, not so certain the path would be safe unless he personally made sure.

8 minutes in when they started to crawl across, Wile almost slipped and fell. The goofy apprehensiveness in his expression didn't vanish. He almost looked like a frightened cat sticking to the branch of a tree. Mori behind him let out a gasp, and this he could tell was probably because she heard the rocks dropping into inky black. Thinking quickly, Wile lowered himself, on top of the piece of path that ceased to be any at all, and let Mori slip across over his back. Wile was sturdy, capable and very much stronger than anything she'd have seen in a book. She would have no trouble; but the sad thing was now Mori would have to be the one to look out for pratfalls.

When they finally rounded the corner, there was a wide ledge and, when Mori, almost out of breath and just inches away from the inky black, reached the other side with an exhausted plop, she made it to the other side.

Thank God, or whatever deity dominated, they managed to survive the narrow climb. Mori was pooped out and took a short rest. So did Wile. It was more painful for the jackal because every so often his stomach would growl. To his embarrassment, he hadn't eaten anything since coming onto the planet.

The first thing that happened after Wile grabbed the vessel, was when he hit head against moss-covered pipe. "OW!"

Mori was surprised and said, "I know this place. this is plumbing system that runs underneath the temple and my village. But not the rest of the planet- where are you going? Hey! wait up!"

Wile would have address that a lot later, when started to run. A change in the air, dark, barely illuminated cliff platforms, and rough cut out holes full of bizzare and complicated machinery awaited them; Wile climbed to tower all of these, while Mori steadily followed behind, perplexed at her companions' behavior.

Wile found himself scaling walls, then jumping platforms that seemed to float, without any kind of support visible, in the looming darkness, and even inane looking flat protrusions jutting to the ceiling from the walls, sometimes small, sometimes huge. Wile's tall ears picked up the incredibly faint whirr of gadgetry, dancing blips of green. The zoni vessel lit almost every inch of their illuminated path, getting higher and higher with every passing second.

Mori tried passing time by exchanging more odd lingo (what lingo she knew or came to know by chance) with her tall new friend, who took it in with greater and greater interest, and decided to impress her (He was as vain as peacock himself, though he'd never realized it, nor would he have ever admitted) with lingo of his own. It wasn't much, because from his own time he didn't hang out with anyone who didn't laugh or didn't have the gall to punch him in the face, drop anvils on his head, or toss him into a trashcan, or toss his gym clothes into the latrines, or... let's face it, Wile didn't have that many pleasant memories. From outside his standpoint, he was a bonafide Loser. A GEEK.

Mori stopped Wile E. Coyote several times along the dimly lit path to point out obvious traps he accidentally and viciously ran across. 5 out of 8 of those traps involved Wile being flattened like a pancake. 8 times out of 10 Wile E. Coyote would suffer what _should've _been a critical impact to the head, but survived it all. To coin a phrase, Wile was sipping a cup of tea, and even if he didn't ask for it, "received one lump or Two".

* * *

Farmer Begeron Brown, a straightfaced, straightlaced, and slow witted Fongoid, was washing clothes and hanging them on a tight line, with one end of the string tied to a stick of wood built into the woodwork of his house that sat only a couple of miles just near the village. the other end was tied around a high protrusion of rock. He was lucky he had LONG string! He had just been given a bizzare set of clothes to clean up, by the Fongoid soldiers who dropped on by yesterday. They were dark green, and long enough to constitute as a War jacket of some kind.

"Doo-de-doo, de-day de-doo-de-dah," he sang, washing clothes using an iron board and basket of water that reeked of Blargian spidermonkey residue. He was in a cheery mood; better to have laundry done long before the day had officially started. That's why Brown picked this morning, roughly just 3:00 in morning, when the great Elders' Star would shoot across the sky, and over the horizon, beginning anew the chase across the planet to trap the morning star. By a bizzare poetic twist, however, Sunrise was not far behind.

He sand and twidled and hummed; He dunked more of his youngins' clothing into the water, scrubbed it clean, and then, catching it up as he pulled it out, used a pair of thick globs of some strange harmless substance to make it stick to the clothesline he set up. These clothes were for his two kids, and he hung them right alongside the giant overcoat (With matching big shoes, too!). The green overcoat had already been dried our for the past hour.

He did hear rumours spreading around that the overcoat belonged to the strange alien brought to the village just a month ago. Being simple-minded as he was, Brown thought he was harmless and kept thinking, "Well, if the fella wants his clothes he can swing'on bai here and grab'em! I love doin nice stuff fer people!" So was his natural line of thought as he stared at the large coat. Then Brown turned away for a couple of seconds to stare at the pretty night sky, then grabbed another pair of clothes that needed washin'. When he turned around, a funny wonder of all wonders: the giant green overcoat was inexplicably gone, as if it had been spirited away with a gentle hush.

"Geezers," exclaimed Brown. "That shure was quick! Eis had no idea the alien was a ghost! Too bad he mays not need'em though, cause if hes' a ghost-type character, then the clothes wous'jus fall right thrugh' im!"

And quite satisified with this rational explanation of things, went straight back to work, taking differently lengthened moments to admire the fading stars and the growing sun past the eastern mountains.

* * *

Slipping each skinny arm into the sleeves while holding both boots in mouth, Wile was back into business, and looking like his original signature.

Mori's mouth dropped open. Seeing a brown organic wearing white tightie whities was one thing. Now with him wearing a large overcoat Wile had a such a solemn detached air about him, something that drew her in closer like a stinky cheese; you know, the kind that just STINKS, but ya just wanna get a powerful whiff of it, and it's totally worth it.

Wile put on both boots and checked both pockets. He fished out a small, cubular device that had a pair of buttons and a glass chamber. "Now the next problem, my dear, is not just finding my ship, but finding out whether or not anything is missing from there we can't LEAVE this planet without." he rubbed a fist against a boastful chest, but Mori deflated it. "Uh, well, see, the ship has been put inside a pen near the counselor's chief's office near the centre of town. REALLY not that hard to find it."

And immediately, both Wile's ears dropped comically, as did his expression. Mori continued with, "Plus, I bet whatever stuff you're still missing and stuff, I bet it's also still with the ship, because I'm not certain _any _of the Elders are busy looking into anything important."

Elder Chief Za'aul was preoccupied reading a book entitled, "Minature golf: The Best Way to enjoy gloating how better You are at the game then all the other doofs who play it".

You would have expected a simple dirt clearing surrounded by a baracade of simple wood, wouldn't you? As Mori had never seen it herself, she assumed her blissfully careless little race had lackluster talent in the area of setting up an articulate defense to bar off any unwanted intruders.

She and her tall new coyote friend hid in the bushes and peering out from them, beyond the scrutiny of the feeble but not so oblivious 3 sets of guards awaiting them, surrounding a Pit, at the center of which was a pretty articulated piece of engineering. A 8 feet tall platform that sank right into the ground, and connecting that platform were 2 wire bridges ran to the center, a large industrial complex tower. The surface the complex outside was covered in a shiny, vibrating metal in a grid pattern. The bridges themselves were being guarded, and all the areas around it were barred off by chain fence.

Mori's face turned. "They must have made some... improvements," she whispered.

Wile's ears twitched- That metal making the sound was the cause. He knew what it was right away and relayed this information to Mori. "A magnetic alloy. That tower's covered head to toe in a metallic alloy." He bit his lip.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that your planet's hiding a dirty little secret. And I can't bring any technology close to it without it being attracted to the metal."

"Wooooah..." was all Mori could say. Meanwhile Wile already thought of a plan. Just that he wasn't sure if it'd get off without a hitch. Mori suddenly found herself being grabbed around her pudgy waist, and yelling, "HEY!"

Wile in trenchcoat with both Mori and the Zoni Vessel, hopped out of the bushes, and as he did, he flew down the hill where the large Metallic Tower stood. It didn't take any of the tall lanky Fongoid sentry guarding the outpost tower of the first gate very long to see the angry coyote about to bombard them with kid in hand and brilliantly lit Zoni Vessel in the other. 3 of them, with spears in hand, and belts equipped with long barrel dischargers - Guns that were designed to take in air and then literally discharge it after building enough pressure within the thin compact chambers - all which Mori explained to him earlier. They had two on each belt!

It wouldn't have mattered, because the **Wolf **was in the tower, along with everything else, and Wile's eyes were **glowing green, and the HOLD manifested.**

Time froze, and only things that remained to be active during this period were, as plain as it was to see, Wile himself, and things he carried in his arms, Mori and the Zoni Vessel.

Mori's was broke stunned when her whole body became readily active, eyes to limb to brain and all. "Oh this is AMAZING!" She squealed with delight. "Y-You're actually FREEZING TIME!"

But right as she said this, Wiles hold began to slowly but steadily unfreeze itself. The guards were slowly drawing their guns to stop the interlopers. Wile flew past them both, and boots were tramplin' down the path towards the the pair of chrome-colored double doors. Now what!

He turned to Mori who was irritatedly trying to get his attention with something she had grabbed from one of the guards. Wile's mouth dropped open. It was an I.D. Pass card, and in her other card was a _Pressure Discharger_.

He wanted to scream, "_Where did you get that!_" but everything was happening too damned fast. The hold released, and without thinking Wile nicked the card from a cheerful Mori grinning like the Chessire Cat himself, and held it in front of the detection eye hanging above the doorway. So many thoughts passed through Wile's head, all of them useless, including the red herring of, _I wonder when the Fongoids had access to all this technology...? Was the Zoni? Or something... ELSE... _

The door whirred open. Wile dived on in. The complex felt bigger inside than outside, and floor was a smooth glassy surface with the interior decorated in an awesome mix of something interplanetary and professional spacecraft technology. He didn't have time to admire all this now. He set down Mori, who in turn, tossed him the _Discharger_ - Wile was beginning to think his new found accomplice was a _teeny bit _insane and too crafty for _his _own tastes. No wonder SHE liked him.

"We've got to find your ship!" yelled Mori. Wile nodded hastily in agreement, but how were they going to find it? Mori jumped the shark and ran in one direction around the circular interior. Wile followed her and stuffed the gun in his pocket. They came to a another set of double doors - locked but to the right side there was a keypad. Obviously, it was set not so tall that a fongoid couldn't reach it, so Mori could access it. "Uh! Uh...!" she yelled.

They heard more loud noises about several meters away from the door they just barged on through, and Wile, pulling out the gun and having _no _idea what he was doing, just cried, "_Let me try_."

"But you don't know the password!"

"Neither do you!" He shot back, while sniffing at the Keypad, then, just _winging it_, by typing in random sets of numbers. "23454314" **(bbzzzztwrong**) "3893243" (**bbzzztwrong**)

"Oh this is getting us nowhere!" Wile yelled, then asked Mori, "You couldn't have just stolen the password from them?"

Mori stuck out a tongue and assumed her stock haughty pose. "I _could _have. But you needed a freaking' Sweet gun to defend yourself, and I don't think you have any _fight_-"

But Wile wasn't paying attention attention to her because his ears and eyes _bolted _up like an inflated Balloon, and he had another idea. He pulled out the gun, his eyes flashing with a calm fire. "The material used in making this gun feels like a hollow, incredibly light bamboo bark."

Mori nodded, even as afraid as she was of the two of them being discovered and their entire plan going up in smoke. "Y-Yeah! It's similar to whatever Earth Metal you use to make Guns and Machine Arms. It's sturdy, and it's ideal for close quarters combat, but it also emits an electrical discharge too! See, cause it has two copper wires, one black and one white, to create the spark that will cause impact when the gun is fired! I don't think the rest of my tribe have any idea 'bout these guns. Only I did, but I didn't tell a single person, not even my friends!"

Mori recieved the gun from Wile who put both paws on her shoulder and quickly asked, "To a hundredth of a second. Can you dismantle it? I will make haste with holding off the guards."

Mori's eyes brightened. "Absolutely, Mr. Wile, sir! But what are you going to-!"

"No time to **Explain**." Wile's eyes flashed a dangerous green, and the **Hold **manifested.

He sat up, and as he did he turned around and could see the guards within perfect distance. A really goofy bunch indeed, brandishing their spears at Mori and Wile, with funny expressions on their faces, all clammoring on top of each other. They numbered to four. Wile let out a snide laugh, and walked on over. Wile E. Coyote would work with whatever he dealt. So he walked over quickly and snatched two Pressure Guns from each of the guards.

Despite the desperation of the situation, Wile quickly went over all the carefully established facts about his bizzare powers again to remind himself: the **Hold **could freeze time. The **Hold **could last as long as **30 seconds**, and within that time, Wile E. Coyote was the only one able to move. If there was anyone touching him whenever he froze time right on that spot, Those people would be able to move within the frozen timeframe. Wile knew this, because it became clear to him when he carrying Mori along with him inside. But outside, no one was moving.

Further, within the Hold, Wile couldn't have the same affect on machines... so far, anyway. When he short-circuited the Agicalc, before that, he was only able to simply _slow down _the Agicalc. Wile wasn't sure if that was because it had anything to do with the Agicalc being a machine that had the ability to naturally evolve into a stronger one, or because it was a machine that was made of a differently abled metallic alloy. He still hadn't figured that out yet.

Wile decided to try something else while the Hold was still up. He went up to one of the Guards, then grabbed one of them by their tunics. And as easy as pie, Wile discovered he could LIFT one of them, by their whole body. They were practically as light as a feather. So he decided to quickly rearrange all four of them in the most bizzare position he could think of, while snatching all of their dischargers.

The **Hold **had inexplicably faded, and when it did, the four guards that were hotly in pursuit of Wile and Mori discovered that they had all been assembled in a crazy-looking "Egyptian" (WhateverthatmeansIdonteven) pattern that saw them being stacked right on top of each other, each of them making a flamingo pose. Two on the ground and two in the air standing stupidly right on top of the two on the ground.

The first guard cried, (Top left, flamingo pattern) "I don't GET it! What just happened?"

The second went, (Top Right, Flamingo Style) with dizzy eyes, "I feel weird! That furry alien who kidnapped that Delinquent Orphan was standing there one minute and then next I'm in a pose! My pressure pistols are missing!"

The third guard (Bottom Left) who had a heavy set voice hissed, "The furry alien's green eyes glowed! And he had a Zoni Vessel in his arm! He must have the ability to manipulate time! Maybe not for very long though, his power is still akin to that of a child's!"

While the fourth guard (Bottom Right), with the deepest and craziest voice out of them all yelled, "I feel so awesomely culturally invigorated! Let's have a salsa feast!"

Naturally they got themselves together, and when the top pair crashed down on the bottom pair in a disastrous mess then got themselves back up, they spent a unnatural deal of time trying to figure things out.

"That kid was Mori, the troublemaker! What was she doing with that coyote anyway?" Second guard said out of wonder.

"Who cares! We need to stop them! Keep them from opening the Door! The one behind us right over th-!"

Of course, The door was split wide open, no furry alien, and no Mori. They were both long gone from beyond the door. Next to it, the keypad console was busted up, and some of the wiring inside the keypad was deliberately cut loose, and every couple of seconds a spark would fly out from the broken end of the copper. Lying right at the foot of opened double doors was a dismantled Pressure charger that seemed to have the silencer pistol barrel ripped straight off, and a bunch of complicated electrical override mechanisms exposed visibly from the Bamboo trunk shell of the gun handle. It became evident that the furry alien used the awesome technology the guns were made of, to forcefully hack into the door.

All four guards, transfixed with a similar astonishment with what they saw, had all dropped their mouths open.

The fourth guard however, didn't feel the full impact, and topped off the moment with a dumb comment. "Ya think he's into celebratory salsa dip?"

* * *

Wile couldn't keep his eyes off the scenery porn as he ascended the stairs, accompanied by an overexcited, level-headed Mori.

It was ALL amazing Techonolgy, the likes of which you'd never see on Earth. Though, from his standpoint, it _was _advanced, but it said something about the civilizational development of planet Quantos; that they were somewhat only a couple of decades, or twice that, just behind Earth. Besides, _Chrome _was the latest "Futuristic" color scheme, and a very popular one. Not stylish, but just so effective enough to get the point across.

Thankfully, there was adequate railing along the stairs. and only two feet of space between them and the faintly glowing walls of pristine blueness.

Mori was getting chipper and chipper cause things wouldn't stop just getting better. "Dude! You're just so... COOL!"

Wile was almost distracted by the not-completely perfect 2000 inches thick framework of the interior with faulty design. "Eh? You think I'm... "Cool"?"

Mori's face became flushed. "Mmm-hmm. Cause you not only figured out a creative way to purposefully use your time altering powers to freeze the guards in place, but you took all their guns, _and _with the Black and White wires from the disassembled gun, you hardwired and hacked into the computer mainframe of the security system straight from the door, unlocking it as well as deactivating the entire Security System Override all in one shot, allowing us to effectively GET AWAY! IT'S SO COOL!"

Wile couldn't help but swell up with pride. The two of them reached top of the stairs, swung into the first door they found at the top, and he let Mori lead the two of them around the second level of the complex. "You really think I'm a cool chap?" he asked her.

"Uh, well," she began shyly. "You are the first alien _I've _ever seen apart from my own kind, so you are absolutely the coolest. You can even work a situation to your advantage. I mean wow, you must have great engineering talent! I'm not sure anyone could have been able to to hotwire that door like you did."

Wile agreed with every word, but he thought that maybe she was a little bit carried away in her fanatic adoration. She certainly knew how to make a person feel _special _though.

They continued running along the hallways, devoid of any enemy encounter. Thanks to Wile "hotwiring" the door below like Mori said, he was able to surpass that and accomplish opening _all _on the doors in the building. That was all well and good, but this presented new problems. He had no idea if opening all of them at one would have triggered some kind of backup security protocol to start in place in the event of something the likes of "Wile E. Coyote and his vaguely defined Superhuman Engineering Talent/Time Powers."

He also a bit disappointed that it was merely just Fongoid drones with guns that could barely puncture an air pocket balloon, and never something huge like an Ozone layer, and nothing fancy like a, he didn't know, a large security robot, not similar to the Agicalc, but formidable enough to prove a _worthy _challenge to his superior intellect. As it stood, things were pretty damned Tame. Lax even. It was a perfect validation for Mori's argument: the Fongoids were a blissfully careless little race.

"Over here!" cried Mori, standing in front of an open door, pointing inwards. (Just how the heck BIG was that tower!) Wile ran toward the door. He looked inside, and it was another surprisingly large antechamber, no ceiling, pretty circular, and the shape and build of the circular platform in the middle suggested it must have been an elevator. Mori was no less full of the excitment she started out with, running straight into the antechamber. Wile, fearing not for Mori's safety as much as he was fearing for the Zoni Vessel she had in her stubby paws, chased after her. "Mori, wait! We don't know what sort of danger there remains!"

Mori's grin turned a bit sour in all but 3 seconds as she got sick of her new friend's "overly-cautious" comment. She haughtily replied, "Oh, come on! We were totally _full-frontal assault _on this place! We can handle my races' mook security, and you've got awesome Time Powers! Add to that, we now some of my people's awesome Pressure Air Dischargers in possession. What could _possibly _go wrong?"

Wile's eyes bunched up as he froze in place, with a red ring around one of his point-sized black pupils, stuck in dumb shock at Mori's statement, which struck a wrong chord to his ears - it sounded _too much _like something he personally would have said. **Way. Too. Much.**

Add to that, Mori scrambled back to Wile's side because something gigantic popped from the hole of the large circular no-ceiling. It was stick-thin automaton with bulky armor plating and pillar-sized claws and a crescent-shaped Metal plating. Emblazened on top of its armor chest plating it read: "**Fongoid Last Defense Security System XX843-D25: Kills Intruders, Interlopers and Annoying Mosquitos Dead**".

It dropped in so suddenly with a great a horrifying thud, Mori was scared witless and wordlessly. She dropped the Zoni Vessel and rolled out of her reach and onto the side, away from the 3 remaining within the room. Wile could already tell that she was at least as scared as he was, but between the two of them, she was in greater danger, being closer to the Terminator-styled machine.

The machine focused its attention on Wile, and not Mori, especially considering that it'd make more sense the Robot would go after the anomaly that didn't share the same DNA as the Fongoids. Because Wile E. Coyote was obviously the thing that didn't belong on the planet.

Wile's expression did not change, and as he raised a white sign from out of nowhere, he gulped. _Hard_.

(**Uh-OH**)

* * *

***Out of story Momentary* (Meaning the Following has Absolutely Nothing to do with the story)**

Wile E. Coyote: My goodness, child! This is utterly amazing!

Amalockh: Thanks... :)

Wile E. Coyote: I'm going to fight another machine, though? That sounds er... painful.

Amalockh: Yes. Yes it is.

Wile. E. Coyote: Well, I'm certain you'll allow me to graze on through with no injuries correct? (glances at story notes)

Amalockh: I'm not going to make any guarantees.

Wile E. Coyote: ... You sound oddly... stiffened.

Amalockh: I'm going through lots of crazy s-words.

Wile E. Coyote: Oh dear. (concerned)

Amalockh: But hey! I've got the awesome Wile E. Coyote looking at my story, nothing more awesome I could ask for!

Wile E. Coyote: Who _wouldn't _want excellent genius in their household? It adds merit and credibility when you plan on selling it!

Amalockh: I'm not selling my house! What would make you think that?

Wile E. Coyote: A house graced with the presence of a common plebeian and vulgar vagabond carries little in value and speaks of the social identity and validated credibility of the people in possession of the house. It also shows what sort of people middle class people tend to associate with.

Amalockh: (dumbfounded by the absolute ridiculousness)... what.

Wile E. Coyote: While you my dear boy, despite being of common birth and most excellently having endured the eh, heheh, primitive services of education that could amount to a day's galavanting the Kindergarten, know the fairer and obviously more _superior_ graces that come with the delicate and glorious visitations of a purebred genius. So you should count yourself blessed the fortune of a street savvy entrepreneur!

Amalockh: ... Uh... huh.

Wile E. Coyote: Dear boy, I was merely giving you a compliment.

Amalockh: Okay, well, you will have to forgive me since the reality of your comment masked within a paragraph is so well versed I am uncertain whether I should be flattered or insulted.

Wile E. Coyote: (visibly "hurt") Well, goodness, you seem not all that invigorated or excited. And I must admit, when I noticed that you saw false, well-maintained, and glorified imitations of my perfect likeness established in fanart on such places as the likes of what you call this "Deviantart" dot net, I was utterly positive that you harbored an amorous lust about my... (grins widely) _person_.

Amalockh: ... That is true, but I'm just... not _into _that anymore. The guy who made your fanart was gone from that place.

Wile E. Coyote: "Not into it anymore" you say? (pulls out a cigarette, lights one up and starts smoking) I'm not so utterly ignorant you know. I know of such things that pervade the Internets like the Furry Fandom, and I've been depicted in the fantasies of others, usually involving my beautiful body along with their inferior theirs in bed. Surely you think of me that way? Or "thought", as you so claim.

Amalockh: Well, I'd be pissant lying if I said I didn't think of you that way a few times. To be honest, it didn't look pretty in my head.

Wile E. Coyote: Oh?

Amalockh: But do you want to know what it is about you that was my biggest turn on?

Wile E. Coyote: (surprised) Oh? And what exactly is that, Mr. Writer?

Amalockh: It wasn't so much your determination I see in all your cartoon shorts, nor is it the stockpiles of ridiculous ammunition that you had at your disposal from ACME. By the way, you don't keep in touch much with them anymore, do you?

Wile E. Coyote: Not so much. I have filed multiple lawsuits against them, none of which have gone through. But do go on.

Amalockh: ... Okay then, stellar. It was your fated tendency to be the biggest psychological train wreck, your "speciality" at failing so hard to catch a stupid bird, the Roadrunner, that turned me on to the thought of f*cking you senseless. The way someone like Silvolf wants to f*ck the crap out of Zorak from the Space Ghost series.

(Wile E. Coyote drops the cigarette and stares at me, a little offended)

Wile E. Coyote: ...

Amalockh: ...

Wile E. Coyote: (narrows his eyes to evil slits)

Amalockh: Yeah.

Wile E. Coyote: (remains silent)

Amalockh: Let's be honest. You were more a "quick fling" kind of interest anyway. In real life you are just a broken dilapidated house with nobody living in it. You're kind of arrogant, and so full of yourself I bet you'd inflate the size of a hot air balloon. Oh but what do you have to show for it at the end of the day? Bumps on your noggin, smashed rib cage, broken knees, and some the worst injuries no human could ever suffer. All because of a bird. You have some of the easiest sympathy cues to come your way because of what a simple bird can do, which far outpaces your supposed brilliant genius plans. Every. single. f*cking. time. You think so damn highly of yourself, you are _worse _than Daffy Duck.

Wile E. Coyote: (Remains silent)

Amalockh: Really. _Daffy Duck_. And by the way, thanks for calling me stupid and saying I come from an ignorant family, or perhaps I should give you credit for being so (bleep)damn condescending and arrogant, you want to sprinkle on the Bacon Bits of, "I associate with stupid people", cause I wondering, since when in the heck do you know anything about ME, PERSONALLY?

Wile E. Coyote: (composes himself than leaves without saying a word)

Amalockh: Try not to fall off a cliff, God forbid you make me happy.


	19. Part 2 Secondish Great Escape

Wile sprung into action just as quickly as if a jolt of electricity made a hefty stimulus. coattails flying, he jumped, and then skidded on the ground to grab Mori before the only one of the SEN012 Fighter machine's hands could grab _him _instead. He turned his head to stick his tongue out at the machine, which whirred around with a sluggish twist of the torso. Then a nasty red eye started to shine through the lime green faceplace prompting Wile's ears to lower.

"Wile! Use the guns!" Mori screamed.

Not when he was carrying the girl. Instead, Wile jumped to dodge a powerful swing of the Robot's second arm, which had a claw-like hand in the shape of a "C". It was unleashing a wave of eletrical impulses in a flat swerve. Wile was looking back, trying to find some kind of opening to trash the bucket of bolts.

It was a lean model! The legs were much the same as metallic stilts. It spun around on the base of its pelvis and began to run in hot pursuit of the skinny jackal.

"Put me down and trash the can!" Mori screamed again. Wile didn't have the time in pay close attention to what she said, so he put her down quickly, in the open alcove sitting on the opposite end of the room, followed by him taking out a piece of bubble gum wrap and running straight at the human-sized monster. It swung it's giant metallic arm but Wile dodged it, skidding underneath it between it's legs.

Sadly, the daring feat was punished. The monster swiveled around, walked backwards and proceeded to grab the scrawny coyote by the neck with the gigantic metal hand shaped like a large "C", and with all the power of a hundred brick walls, pummelled Wile senseless like a punchdoll. Wile didn't have time to dodge, nor come up with a plan, and his heartbeat had a rapid increase.

With black-eyes and sagging tongue, Wile pulled out a small sign which read, "Can't we be _FREINDS?_"

Which was then met with some electricity that zapped him while he was still trapped in the claw-grip.

_**BZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!**_

Wile's smoky face deflated as he wheezed out a weak, "Oww..." and Mori watched the whole scene cringing. The monster said in the cold metallic voice: "SPECIES UNKNOWN - TERMINATION IMMINENT."

_Think, Wile old boy, think! _Wile urgently shrieked at himself, but his entire body was seized by a terror that would _dragged for days to months of stagnancy and irrefutable procrastination._

_WAIT!_

He remembered the bamboo pistols still burning a hole in his pocket, and better yet, he completely memorized _all _the _materials and elements that composed the making of the gun's integrity_. ONE of said materials would allow him to break free of this dilemma, and another one of them, would gurantee that Wile could make it out of this one _alive_.

_I don't think this might scramble the hardware in that tin-bucket's machinery BUT... _Wile thought weakly to himself, cold metal grip of the claw clamped tightly around his chest and arms.

_**FZZZZZZOOOOOOOOOM**_

Everything went green. Wile was unnerved to see that his hold over time seemed to barely slow down the incoming volley of metal fist. He had a second to breathe, then wiggle and struggle to bring his arm close to his left pocket, where he put some of the unused parts of a quickly disassembled Pressure discharger disabling the program of the Sliding door from earlier. He could feel around inside there, but with all that pain from the tight grasp the Machine had on him, he badly wanted to just shriek and abandon his fruitless quest. Finally his paw grasped the thing he angrily sought, and he flung it out with a triumphant pull, simultaneously releasing his Hold.

With an unbearably painful grunt, pulled out a piece of the Discharger that created a very brief, and very vicious flash of light, usually created when a great deal of friction and the right amount of a special powder met on it's surface. It's bristly facing side allowed for soft minerals to continually stick towards it's surface (A really fun discovery on Wile's part.) allowing for a second mechanism inisde the gun (the catalyst) to apply a break or sudden firm burst of air to create the illusion and force of pressure discharged as a _bullet _to fast to be seen by the normal eye. Held perfectly compact between his two rough, dirty fingers, the clever jackal took advantage of the limited effects of his Hold on machines, slowing down the stupid Hulk-Robot's advancing arm but _"preserving_" the contained potential energy about to connect. The force of said incoming fist was a perfect substitute for pressured air, warm enough to disrupt the sensitivity of the disassembled gun piece, and then...

**BOOOOOM!**

Wile saw his world tumble before hitting the ground with a _painful, vicious, _SMACK. Rolling over and then hitting the wall, he didn't want to get up again, but his nerve-wracked, bony body went into overdrive upon seeing what was happening in front of his lopsided viewpoint.

As if being controlled by a puppeteer with palsied hands, the robotic attack drone was _spinning _on it's pelvis, arms flailing out of control, and the spinning made it look too much like a ceiling fan. Only more deadlier and more _threatening_. What didn't make it any better by watching was how the once rigid, caculated movement of the Robot had turned slovenly, erratic and fumbling. This faulty stumbling was nothing short of a perfect indication that Wile succeeded in quickly scrambling the large "brain" inside the attack drone's programming,

But that wouldn't last long so needed to act and/or dissappear fast! The first thing he did when he struggled back to his feet was survey the whole room. He needed a strategy with _cunning _and _sound doctrine _that would put the robot in it's place for _good_. But his head was POUNDING... Mori's distant cheering and the highly present air running through the indoor ventilation shaft weren't making it ANY...

_!_

If asked how he knew to do ANY of those things he did, Wile would've chalked it up to pure luck in his favour, or just the magnitude of his genius, or both, or neither. Sitting above him were the reefer cages where the indoor air was coming from. He decided to ignore the Robot for now and jump up to reach the cages and pull the Filter off the stupid shaft free.

It was quite an easy reach, and at the same time as he did this, several things happened all at once. One, he realized there were advantages to having quite an athletic, if skinny body; his jump was positively magnificent in grace and form, and for once, he was happy for an active witness such as Mori. Two, Mori was yelling, "The button next to it! Use the button next to it to change the atmospheric temperature permeating in the room!"

The third thing to happen was whatever programming protocol set into place for the security robot to deal with this situation was set in, activated, causing it to cease spinning like a toy top and then resume it's original operation: eliminating the anomaly that was Wile E. Coyote. It focused it's tint-green visor up at where Wile was struggling to pull free the Filter, which _wouldn't _come free. The robot levitated into the air and few straight at him, one of its' menacing claws sparking to life with the crackling blue chaos.

"Wile look out! Look, Look, Look out!"

Mori screaming didn't help, nor did Wile need any further goading. With one last heave he pulled that sucker of a filter free, then jumped off the wall back to the floor. Wile hit the floor with a tumble while the machine struck the spot with hot air now pouring in.

_Now what?_ Looking behind him as he ran from the robot, the warm increase in temperature hadn't done anything that hampered the progress of the robot yet, so now Wile was tossing ideas: _I can't cook robots, and I don't know if I can't cook anything, but if I don't do SOMETHING now... wait a minute!_

Of course he wasn't stupid to _not _use the pistols so he whipped out two of the working ones he stole. Now Wile was pummelling the gargantuan beast with 6 rounds of pressurized air, pounding against the metallic shell the drone as it started to charge at him full speed like a non-stop express.

Wile turned tail and ran, but there wasn't anywhere to run to. As he did he launched volley after volley of Air shots at the tin machine with extreme prejudice.

8 more shots from the Discharger and the green faceplate started to crack. The thing flung out it's ugly robotic arms, and mini-nuclear bombs shot out of its fingers, prompting Wile to run screaming like a little girl. With each bomb that hit, Wile dodged it, but couldn't dodge the blast, and found himself hitting the wall repeatedly.

*THWACK*

*THWACK*

*THWACK*

The last _thwack _gave Wile an idea. he reached into the coat pocket, ignoring his severe bruises and aches, snatched another of the Dischargers and sent it sailing over the shoulder of the security robot, momentarily distracted. This was about the middle of the room, because no matter _where _he ran, Wile had to keep on his feet.

Something in the robot's programming, like he anticipated, decided that Wile was unarmed. Instead, it assumed a completely _straightened _position before raising the "C" arm into the air, and launching it's coiled _whip _arm out to grab Wile soundly by the waste. Wile E. Coyote didn't move because he was rapidly losing the strength to fight back- If you could call poorly-to-not planned maneuvers and completely meaningless actions "fighting" -and was tossed right into the air. Somewhere he heard the audible gasp of a mischievous little Fongoid girl.

Still caught in the icy grip of the sentry, Wile enacted the "Brillant Plan". Out of nowhere did he pull the sign reading,

(I give up)

If it had a gaze behind the large seaweed-colored glass dome faceplate, it was definitely acknowledging Wile E. Coyote's odd "sign language".

"ANOMALY IDENTIFIED AS CANIS LAPIS, AGE UNKNOWN, HEIGHT - 17 CENT. - WEIGHT UNDER 300 - INTELLIGENCE CAPACITY - 350, BIRTHPLACE - UNKNOWN - GALAXY - SOLAR SYSTEM - " droned the Machine in a mechanical tone as it analyzed the weakened jackal still caught in the deadly grip. "PROCESSING REASONABLE ACTION - TERMINATE - " With that last word, two openings revealed themselves on either side of the Root's head, revealing extending laste guns. No matter how much he wanted it or wished for it, the situation did not take 360* turn from the bizarre.

A whistling sound, then a _konk_. A rock that hit the robot squarely in the head, but had just about as much impact as sand against a beam of solid steel. The crushing grip lessened, and both Wile, now relishing the sweet, sweet relief, and the robot both turned simultaneously towards Mori, who was standing an uneasy distance from both combatants.

Taking her under analytical scrutiny, the robot became suddenly distracted while running a second algorithm of commands, inexplicably caught up in whether to regard a fongoid as an enemy. Mori continued standing there and looked ready to put up her pudgy and very small dukes. The Robot threatened to run straight into a paradox if this continued the direction it was going.

Wile slipped free, jumped behind and rolled over, tossing something onto the robot as he ducked under, then ran like a bat out of heck. The robot swivelled around on it's base and attempted to reach out and snatch Wile mid-run, but then Wile's funny gambit took it's intended effect.

Some crackled on the back of the robot, blue, wiry, too quick to be seen, and in minutes the visor of the robot went aflame with neon-colored malfunction override commands that signalled the robot's unfortunate demise. Next thing they saw was the Robot doing the Chicken Dance!

pushing that button earlier from the temperature filter raised the heat drastically in the room; The robot was unaffected physically, but the programming suffered doubly and easily came under the damaging effects of the electromagnetic discharger placed squarely on its' backside.

_CRACKLE CRACKLE CRACKLE CRACKLE CRACKLE CRACKLE_

The robot went down. It's programming warped beyond recognition, processes going through loop de loops, and the robot itself dancing one heck of a boogie stride, it shuddered, and the pieces of the robot, arms and leg, began flying and crashing in random spots of the entire room.

Wile raised both arms triumphantly and would've let out a triumphant cry too, but right now the only thing he was thinking about was escape - _Why AREN'T YOU ESCAPIN? _

"I'm GETTING TO THAT! Impatient author..." replied the jackal.

"You beat the robot! You _are _powerful!" Mori marveled, just as the jackal scooped her up and ran into the opposite doorway. the last winding staircase in the outside chamber led to small scale facility where...

The ship was still intact!

Mori's mouth dropped open as she, now having been put down, surveyed the ship. "So this is what a spaceship looks like..." She'd never seen it up close.

Wile walked around to the side of the complicated, and airtight machinery holding the ship in place. The entire interior _was _made of machines, running simultaneous processes all at the same time, at maximum power. He would have done a skip and a twirl if he had the time, but he, and his unexpected companion had none. He had to think fast. The fongoids would catch up to them!

As he walked to the back and got a good view of the ship in its entirety, he let out a gasp of both horror and amazement. Whatever specialist engineers they had on this planet, they had the gall to _fix _his spaceship. All of the leftover dents and scratches on the _Wolf _gained when entering the planet, were buffed out and fixed up, making the ship looking GOOD as new. Wile had never been so surprised or stunned in his entire life, then he reflected that while he may never have remembered it in its entirety, he _did _dimly recall being surprised on more than one occassion. But he couldn't pinpoint the exact date, _time _or place such a situation presented itself.

If there had been plans on keeping him here, he realized, then the only thing that would make sense out of this was that the Fongoids, in a fit of self-conceit, were planning on making _his _ship into their latest exhibit piece, like something straight out of a museum.

_How DARE they! _

He did bother on getting angry. He pulled off the bands reading "Highly dangerous" wrapped around the ship's hull, and pulled open the doors. the flood of panic was replaced with an erie, annoyed calm, as Wile bit down his tongue to keep him from screaming, to see that all items, the Time Staff, unfinished robotic suit, and carcasses of cockroaches, were left literally untouched by the fongoids.

_So much for thorough security measures_, Wile thought smugly. _These backwater philistines have NO WIT. They just LEAVE what they find in a crapshoot ship like this as if it were merely nothing more than some roguish ancient artifact? _

But there was no time to dwell on this as the security alarm began to reverbirate throughout the entire room.

Mori was certainly acting quickly; ducking out of Wile's view, she ran over to one of the control mechanisms in the museum - a not so largely stationed flat panel about 8 centimeters wide and 9 in height. "I _found _it!" she squealed. "I can WORK this! We'll free your ship from the circumvent nuclear control padding, and then we'll operate the thing and _finally _blast off this crummy _boring _planet!"

Too excited to hear Wile's over-cautious dripping on the other side of the ship, Mori started tinkering with all the gidgets, gadgets, and whizzing buttons on the flat control panel, which then became a flashing carnival of floating holographic lights as Mori kept zigzagging between them.

SHOOT!

Mori heard the sound and turned around, yelling excitedly, "Mr. Wily? What happened? Is the ship free?"

Wile, now sporting a sizzling, balded head that stung like a bee, began gingerly rubbing at it in severe pain. He turned around to see the Ceiling mini-laser Turret overhead - Not very lethal, but certainly subtle. He frowned and his face contracted into comical anger and annoyance. "NO," he hissed. "_Try again!_" So Mori went right back to the panel oblivious to Wile's mishap.

After several tense minutes, and more tinkering, Mori discovered the _right _combination of buttons to press, and a hissing sound came chilling out of nowhere from behind. To hers and Wile's triumphant surprise, the ship had been freed of all its' restraints. Something new was _now _in the works. From both entrances to the room could be heard the snarling cries of the Foongoid guards clambering to get inside the room and prevent the two escapees from uh.. escaping. "_STOP OTHERWORLD CREATURE! PLEASE WAIT! DO NOT LEAVE!" _came the dampened cries of the guards.

"Mr. Wile, the Steel Bamboo doors won't hold them back for long. We've gotta get outta here! This may be our only chance!"

Wile agreed, but he scratched his head. It was another tense moment he knew better than to waste time reflecting on; they were being pursued by guards and likely to get thrown back into their shoddy mess of a jail in their malformed collection of mudhuts that these strange aliens referred to as "civilisation". But no more. Finally, it looked as though Wile and his new ally were about to re-enter space for the very first time.

"Are you absolutely certain about this, dear child? I certainly can't say whether or not you'd be able to come back here," he told her flatly. He didn't mince words with her, and felt like with all her sharpness and stunning amount of swagger she was beginning to sound a lot like himself, kind of like an equal.

The chubby little fongoid girl had such an uncharacteristic gleam in her eyes. "If I stay here, I'll never see anything different. I'll never grow up, and I'm going to be ground the same as if I was in a cage. But nothing like what my people put you in. I'm going to space!"

_Well she certainly has some dramatic flair when it comes to pontification_, Wile thought half-smugly. All he did was shrug the whole conversation off; he was going to have a travelling companion. Pity he didn't sign any adoption forms.

"... Get into the back of the spaceship after me."

Wile would an indeterminate amount of time grandly admiring all the enhanced modifications to his spaceship, particularly the operating system and the recently installed navigation system. Wile threatened to squeal with joy: it even came with a coffee cup holder!

He didn't bother to wonder why they would intentionally do something this nice for an other-worlder like him, but hey, _their unwanted Samaritan ways _were his self-gain. His brain was working overtime, every microscopic cell in his cranium jumped with electrical stimulus, getting ready to make the first real jump for physical and mental freedom. His entire body was shivering with excitement that it was hard to stay in control; with second switch released, and door in the back unlocked and Mori sitting idly by on in ship's slightly widened interior side wiggling just as doggedly as he was, Wile prepared for take off.

"3... 2... 1..."

The whole ship vibrated, and without warning ascended, the gravity of the planet now annulling them from it. From outside the shouts grew even louder, but Wile wasn't concentrating on that. The ship jumped up and the thrusters kicked in, and sure enough, the punch was tremendous.

"We-we-we-wew-w-w-w-w-we-re g-g-g-g-goin thr-r-r-rr-r-ough turbuleeeence!" came Mori's excited yell. "So _COOOOOOOOOOL_!"

Wile gawked at her, while head shook uncontrollably, and the controlling handles of the ship's steering wheel rattled like a baby's cradle stick in his hand.

"HOW _exactly _is this "cool" from your perspective, Ms. Mori!" He screamed, just seconds before the engine of the ship whirred fully into life, propelling the entire Spaceship beyond the tower, and and at lightning speed, beyond the atmosphere, and beyond the planet's reach, with a mighty roar.

* * *

Meanwhile on the planet, many of the Fongoids saw the blue stream of light made by the spaceship that just entered the atmosphere. Particularly the Tribe Leader, who looked incredibly confused.

That weird creature from another planet left already?" He looked angry, but then his face softened a bit. "All right fellas, put the cake in the kennels!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Contrary to what Wile E. Coyote originally thought, the entire population of the Fongoids were going to throw him a going-away banquet! Several of the Fongoids behind the Tribe Elder were carrying a cake with the words, "Welcome and Conveniently Goodbye Stranger Otherworlder" on it in delicious-looking red frosting.

The Tribe Leader merely shook his head then scratched it, a little worried. Many of the remaining Fongoids looked like they had a very crazy day.

Then the Tribe Leader simply said, "Goodness, if he was in such a hurry, he could've at least stayed for the tasty red liquorice Cake we made to herald his probably perilous journey here... and actually let us explain ourselves so we'd could've cleared up _that _misunderstanding!"

* * *

**- Currently Lookin' for a Job Opportunity to Knock on One's Door But For a Preview I will randomly input following Paragraph:**

****In the next Chapter to come out in a few months, Wile and Mori land on a more Modernized Planet thingy place with all kind of cool gadgets. Then For no reason they get chased by the people who may or may not have had a hand in Pullin Wile into the Fantastic Future place in first place - Elsewhere, Pretty Hot Anime Chick Aurora investigates Conspiracy - THIS TORRY IS PARODY OF RACHET CLANK GAME CANON~


End file.
